


Forbidden

by crowley_you_sinnamon_roll



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addicted Crowley, Crowley and Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, More tags to be added, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowley_you_sinnamon_roll/pseuds/crowley_you_sinnamon_roll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you help the Winchesters pump Crowley full of human blood, you see a new side to the devious demon, propelling you into a whirlwind of confusing feelings for him. As Crowley comes off his addiction, does he still feel the same way or do his feelings for you die along with his addiction?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to do a multi-chapter Crowley fic for so long, but I could never get a proper feel for one. This is version #3. I hope this one works out. First chapter is following through with the plot of an episode (8x23, Sacrifice), but the other chapters will have a more original flow to them. Thanks, guys! I hope you enjoy :)

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas－oh, hold that thought,” you cut off your exorcism as your phone rang shrilly. You gave the demon you had stuck in a Devil’s Trap a sweet smile, mocking it in any way you could. Roasting demons was one of your favorite parts of being a hunter. “Hello?” you spoke into your phone as you strode towards the back of the warehouse, moonlight flitting across your skin from the nearby windows. 

“Y/N? Hey, it’s Dean,” a male voice poured from the small phone speaker.

You smiled a little at the familiar voice. You worked with the Winchesters on cases from time-to-time ever since they eased you into the hunting business. It was a rough transition, but you had grown to trust them. “Hey, what’s up?” you asked, turning your back to your captive demon.

“Nothing good. You know Crowley?”

Crowley. You had never met the King of Hell, but you had heard plenty about him. “Yeah, what about him? I actually have one of his minions here with me,” you replied. You heard a curse in the background, the tone growing dark. Something was up. “Dean, talk to me.”

“Crowley is killing everyone we’ve ever saved until we give up on trying to close the Gates of Hell. You’re next.”

You felt a spike in your heartbeat, your eyes darting about the abandoned warehouse to observe the tiniest shadows. “Is he going to do it personally or am I looking at some sort of trap?” you asked, your hand gripping your combat knife. Like that would help you. 

“Crowley’s smart. He would send someone else to do his dirty work. Watch that demon. We’re on our way!” Dean said before hanging up.

“What? Wait! How do you know where I am?” you tried to fit the words in before the final click, but the call ended. You sighed and tucked your phone back into your pocket before turning around to see the demon gone. “Damn it,” you scowled, spinning around to watch your back. 

“They’re going to be too late,” a voice rang out from somewhere in the warehouse.

“You’re going to be dead long before they get here,” another voice added on. 

So, multiple black eyes? You swallowed nervously, your senses heightened as you moved towards the exit of the warehouse. You couldn’t take two demons with just a knife. You weren’t suicidal. “Oh, yeah? You seem pretty sure. Crowley put you up to this? Your King too much of a little bitch to get his hands bloody?” you shouted back, walking backwards a few steps. 

Something close to a growl sounded right behind you, making the hairs on the back of your neck shoot up instantly. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, trapping your arms to your sides as the demon gripped you tight, crushing you. 

You drew your foot back, roughly kicking him in the knee and making his leg give out. You weren’t going to go down without a fight, whatever the odds. You shouldered your way out of his arms, stumbling forward to face the other one, his smile amused and wicked at your efforts. Without really thinking, you threw your knife, the blade sinking deep in his chest and making him step back a few inches. Run? Run. You took off towards the door, your calf muscles burning as you graduated into a heavy sprint. “Come on, guys,” you whispered breathlessly, hearing the two demons chase you down. You hit the door with your right shoulder, pushing it open and immediately regaining your pace as you entered the parking lot. 

“Gotcha!” When he got close enough, one of the demons lunged, hands grabbing at your clothes and dragging you down to the ground with him. 

Pain shot through your left arm as you collided heavily with the asphalt, the terrain scraping your skin up. You grunted in pain, your body unwilling to move for a second. 

The other demon drove a kick into your side, flipping you onto your stomach. He reached over to the knife in the vessel’s chest and pulled it out slowly, the blood dripping onto his shirt. With a chuckle, he knelt beside you, his free hand grabbing your hair and wrenching your neck up, exposing your throat. He put the blade against your neck, nicking the skin slightly.

You closed your eyes tightly, preparing yourself for that final shock of pain. Instead, you heard a car approaching. And fast. You popped open one eye to see Baby rolling into the parking lot towards you. It caught the demon off guard, opening a window. You reached up and grabbed the closest wrist, twisting it terribly and making him drop the knife. You wriggled out of his grip and dove out of the way before Dean slammed down on the accelerator, hitting the two demons head on without blinking an eye. 

Once the car slowed, the boys exited, eyes hardened with determination. Sam clutched the demon-killing knife tightly before driving it into one of the demon’s chest, strong light flickering inside the body before the vessel dropped to the ground. Sam tossed the knife over to Dean before approaching you, the other demon’s painful screams going unnoticed as the older brother laid into him. “Are you okay?” Sam asked you as he helped you stand.

You nodded and brushed some of the dirt off your pants, slightly grimacing in pain as your left arm moved. “Good timing, guys,” you told them as Dean approached. 

Dean shrugged and gave Sam back the knife before sighing. “Well, we saved one. I don’t think Crowley knew you were a hunter.”

“Well, he might know now. Can we go?” you asked with a small laugh, your body sore from the beating. Now, you really wanted to meet Crowley and deal out some much needed revenge. “Last time you guys talked to me you were on the second trial. Kevin is making good progress with the tablet,” you commented as you followed the boys back to the Impala.

“Yeah, kid is working hard. We’re on the third trial, which is to cure a demon,” Dean replied, starting the engine as soon as he got in. 

“Sounds complicated. If I had to pick a demon, I’d pick this Crowley figure, though. He seems like real trouble. What’s a better way to knock him down to size than to take away those pretty black eyes? Or whatever color eyes he has,” you spoke up from the backseat. 

“I don’t think you have to knock him down to size … He’s pretty short,” Dean muttered, a small smirk on his face.

“She has a point, Dean. We could solve our problem with Crowley by making him human,” Sam replied.

“How do we even get near him, though? He’s not just going to come strolling to us.”

“He’s waiting for you to surrender, right? He’s obviously waiting to make a deal, and judging by your history with him, he’ll come to put that in writing. Next time he calls, tell him you surrender and arrange a meeting place. We can trap him wherever we meet up,” you went through with the plan, your fingers tapping excitedly on your knee. Crowley was a big fish. This would be a huge victory if things went right. 

“Sounds like we’ve got a plan,” Dean replied, his smile genuine and bright, hope flaring in his eyes.

~*~

“He bought it? He’s going to meet us?” you asked once Dean hung up the phone. Crowley had called a few minutes ago with a warning and it sounded like the plan was in motion.

“Yep. Bobby’s old place. Let’s go,” Dean said as he went for his bag. 

You slipped on your knapsack and followed the boys to the car, the plan going through your mind on an infinite loop. You wondered what Crowley looked like. How did he act? A small smile quirked up on your face as you slid into the backseat, your legs bouncing as the adrenaline seized you. The drive there seemed to take an eternity, but the familiar yard eventually came into view, memories ghosting all over the place. You took a deep breath before stepping out and sitting down on the edge of the hood, your eyes watching for any sign of the demon. 

“He’s tricky, Y/N, and he’s bad. Remember that,” Sam told you, his eyes serious. 

You nodded, silently promising him you would be smart. Something tugged on the back of your mind and you turned to see a man standing some feet away.

“Hello, boys … and girl,” the man voiced casually at first, but his sentence wavered into an awkward finale as confusion crossed his face. “You … You’re supposed to have snuffed it yesterday,” Crowley told you, his voice laced in shock at your living presence.

“Oh, yeah, good try. However, for your information, my name is Y/N and I’m a hunter,” you told him, spice in your tone as you sneered at him, mentally laughing at his mistake.

Crowley sighed, a small smile growing on his face at your snark. He gave you a few claps, slight awe glittering in his eyes. “Congrats. You outdid my demons, but you still lost. Give up the stone,” he ordered, keeping his distance.

As the Winchesters started the deal, you stayed on the hood of Baby and watched Crowley, studying his moves and gestures. You had to admit he was smooth and charming in a way. He was attractive and well-dressed, power and authority beaming from his strong physique. Confidence pumped through him as thick as blood. You found yourself staring, a small smile on your face.

As Dean read the contract Crowley had rolled out, Crowley’s eyes lifted to meet yours, the hazel-hued orbs seeming to sparkle in the sun that hung up above. When he realized you were trapped in a trance of your own doing, he shot you a wink, the action coquettish and teasing. 

A quick wave of heat rumbled through you, forcing your eyes down. Smug bastard. You gave your head a shake, trying to stay completely professional. You promised Sam you would be smart. 

“Let’s have the big galoot sign it now, shall we?” Crowley’s voice cut through the thick air, sparking your attention. Showtime. You slowly edged towards Dean, ready to assume your role.

Sam moved forward with a pen in his hand, his eyes shifting up to Dean.

Dean turned to Crowley and slapped one pair of handcuffs onto the demon’s wrist, the metal adorning peculiar markings. Once you were close enough, he put the other pair onto your left wrist, trapping Crowley to you. 

“What? You’re joking, right? You know, all I have to do is－” Crowley cut off to snap his fingers, hoping to smoke out, but he didn’t move an inch.

“Demonic handcuffs, jackass. Which means no deal!” Dean hissed to Crowley as he tossed the contract away like trash.

Crowley glared at the two of you, his charm dying beneath his outrage. “Fine. You want to play chain gang? Let’s!” he growled before dealing a hefty hook to Dean’s cheek, nearly putting the Winchester on the ground. 

You felt a flash of anger shoot through you, powering your next move. You swung with your right, your fist hitting Crowley’s temple and sending him stumbling a step side-ways from the power. “Face it, Crowley. You’re ours,” you told him as he straightened up, blood seeping out of his bottom lip.

Dean shoved his hand into Crowley’s jacket and withdrew the tablet, a smirk growing on his face. “Your demon ass is gonna be a mortal ass pretty damn quick.”

“Moose, what are they talking about?” Crowley asked, slight panic in his voice.

“You’re the third trial, Crowley,” Sam told him, his tone confident. 

“Let’s go,” Dean ordered as he trekked back to the Impala.

You tugged Crowley along with you towards Baby, purposely yanking him around like a doll. You enjoyed putting the so-called King in a submissive position. It amused you. You piled into the backseat with him, having to sit extremely close to him, your legs brushing together. 

“In another situation, we could have a good time,” Crowley murmured to you, his tongue feeling at the split in his lip. 

“Oh, yeah, if you hadn’t tried to kill me you definitely would’ve gotten lucky,” you smirked with a roll of your eyes at his nerve. 

“Really?”

You grabbed the chain of the handcuffs and twisted his wrist uncomfortably, making him hunch slightly. You leaned in slightly to meet his eyes. “Don’t try to charm your way out of this one, Crowley. You’ve fucked with the wrong people,” you warned him, your face close to his. 

Crowley listened to your words, his lips parted slightly as you put him in an obedient situation. He swallowed and waited for you to release the chain before resting back into the backseat. “Where’d you guys find her?” he asked, resting his hand on his thigh, which forced your hand to rest on his thigh, as well.

You gave him a look, a small flush crossing your cheeks at the contact. You tried to move your hand to rest on your own thigh independently, but his hand came into contact with you, making you scowl and shiver at the same time. 

“Crowley, I really wouldn’t piss her off,” Dean voiced from the driver’s seat. 

“I like her. She’s fiery,” Crowley smirked, obviously not taking your warning seriously. 

“Are we almost there?” you asked, avoiding eye contact with the handsome demon. This wasn’t that good of a situation for you.

“Yeah, it’s just down this road,” Sam reassured you.

“You know, I didn’t purposely pick you to kill. You were just next on the list,” Crowley told you, his voice softer than normal.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at his comment. 

Crowley chuckled and shook his head, his eyes flickering down and then back to yours. “No, I just wanted you to know.”

You felt some sort of tug inside of you, but you ignored it and looked forward to see an old church approaching. You guys really were in the middle of nowhere. Once the car stopped, you led Crowley out of the car and inside while Sam and Dean grabbed supplies from the trunk. “Take a seat, your Majesty,” you smirked as you shoved him into a chair in the middle of the church.

“Mm … I enjoy hearing those words come from you, darling,” Crowley openly flirted, his eyes suggestive as you began chaining him to the chair. 

You removed the handcuff from your wrist and put it on his, slightly leaning over him as you worked. You felt his gentle breaths against your cheek, the sensation almost calming. You looked up into his eyes and smiled. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I hope you aren’t either,” Crowley replied, his tone thick and sensual. 

You held his gaze for a moment, feeling yourself slip a little. He was good. Thankfully, Dean and Sam marched into the church noisily, carrying items for the ritual. “Enjoy the ride,” you murmured before stepping away to let Dean draw a Devil’s Trap around Crowley. “Ready, Sam?” you asked the younger brother. 

Sam seemed a little nervous, but a little excited, as well. “Ready to get this over with,” he chuckled weakly, his strength fading beneath the trials’ effects. He gave you a small comforting smile before heading into a confessional as Dean went back outside.

Alone again. You turned to look at Crowley, who looked pretty relaxed for the situation he was stuck in. “You seem pretty calm,” you commented from the wall you leaned against. 

“I’m not worried about this hocus pocus Moose and Squirrel are trying to perform on me,” Crowley smirked with a shake of his head. 

“Guess we’ll see how you feel in a few hours,” you murmured as you crossed your arms. You weren’t sure exactly what was going to happen, but you knew it was going to be intense. 

“Guess we will,” Crowley replied evenly, placing his hands casually in his lap.

After a few minutes, Sam returned to the room, his eyes slightly distant. 

“Where’s Dean?” you asked.

“Cas needed help. I’ll tell you later. You and me have to get this done,” Sam told you as he prepared the first injection. 

“Oh, okay,” you replied, confident you and Sam could get this done and shut the Gates. You approached Crowley with a confident smile and forced his head to the side as Sam approached with the needle. 

Sam pressed the needle into Crowley’s neck, injecting the King with his own purified blood. 

“Ah!” Crowley groaned at the strange feeling, his eyes narrowing. He then chuckled and rolled his eyes. “You’re miles out of your league.”

You released Crowley and looked at Sam, noticing him grimacing. The trials were still affecting him heavily. You just hoped he could make it through this last one. 

The time for the next injection came fast and you watched Sam approach Crowley, needle in hand. Suddenly, Crowley grabbed Sam’s arm and embedded his teeth into his skin.

“Ah! Ah! What the hell, Crowley!” Sam spat once he was able to yank himself away. He dealt a heavy punch out of anger, his arm bleeding steadily. 

You immediately followed Sam out of the church, tugging your first aid kit out of your knapsack. That was incredibly random and desperate of Crowley. You wrapped Sam’s arm up, your eyes soft. “Are you okay, Sam?”

“I’m hanging in there,” Sam breathed, giving you a thankful smile. He patted your hand before heading back into the church, eager to end all of this.

~*~

“Ch-Ch-Changes!”

You sighed as Crowley broke into song, noticing Sam turn and cringe again. “Crowley, I’m about to tape your mouth shut,” you snapped at the demon, hearing Sam whimper slightly as his arms glowed. 

“Love it when you talk dirty, darling,” Crowley laughed, but cut off when the church began to rumble heavily. He looked up at you and Sam with a knowing grin as the floor cracked beneath him, splitting a part of the Trap. “Did you really think you could kidnap the King of Hell and no one was gonna notice?”

The church doors broke open to reveal a woman, power surging through her. She walked forward and raised her hand, forcing you and Sam through the nearest window. 

You hit the ground hard, a small cry coming from you as the pain jolted through you at varying extremes. “S-Sam?” you murmured, glancing around for the younger brother. You had to make sure he was okay. 

“Yeah, over here,” the pained grunt came from a bush nearby, the leaves rustling as he pushed himself out from nature’s grasp. 

“Who was that?” you asked as you rubbed your head. She wasn’t friendly, whoever she was.

“Abaddon, Knight of Hell,” Sam replied, blinking harshly. “We can’t kill her, but maybe we can temporarily take care of her,” Sam said as he made his way quickly towards the Impala.

You followed and held the items he pulled out, his idea becoming clearer. “We’re going to turn her into a human marshmallow? Well, not human, but you get what I’m saying,” you commented as you took the jar full of oil.

“Yeah, let’s roast this bitch,” Sam replied before slamming the trunk shut. He made his way back into the church quickly, hoping to fix this problem. 

You jogged up behind Abaddon and whistled, forcing her to spin around from beating the Hell out of Crowley. You threw the oil onto her, soaking her from head to toe. “Light her up.”

Sam lit the match he held in his hand and added onto Abaddon’s attire, sending the vessel up in flames. “Back. Back!” Sam warned you, grabbing your hand and tugging you backwards as Abaddon flailed, trying to rid herself of the flames. By a few seconds, she gave in and smoked out, leaving the burning body in a hurry. 

“Let’s get him up,” you sighed after a heartbeat, knowing Sam was ready to start again. It was time for the next injection. You helped Sam lift the chair back up and then prepared the next injection while Sam fixed the Devil’s Trap, sending Crowley into a fit. 

“ … You’re still gonna do me like this?!” Crowley exclaimed, eyes shining as he stared up at Sam, who approached with the injection.

Sam ignored the demon’s words and jabbed the needle into his neck, completing another part. He removed the needle and then returned to the table, his face taking on a sickly color. 

You watched Crowley as he spoke, hurt in the demon’s tone and eyes. It seemed like he was really feeling what he was saying. Was the procedure really working?

“I deserve to be loved! I just want to be loved,” Crowley whimpered, his eyes genuinely sad as he gazed at you, hope glimmering in his eyes that maybe you would understand because even he didn’t fully understand what he was saying.

“What?” Sam asked, confusion written all over his face.

Crowley blinked a few times, the sadness fading into his own confusion. What had he just said? He shook his head and looked down, trying to mentally recover himself. What was happening?

An hour later, you watched Sam prepare the last injection, his strength nearly fully gone. You approached Crowley, knowing this was going to ruin him when it was all said and done. You couldn’t help but feel … bad for him. Crowley had his head down, murmuring softly to himself. “Crowley?” you whispered, making sure he was still there with you.

Crowley looked up at you, eyes glistening brightly with a thin layer of moisture. “Have … Have you ever been to confession?” he asked you, no joke in his words.

You thought for a second and then nodded, holding his gaze. “Once. Why?”

“I only ask because, given my history … it raises the question ... Where do I start … to even look for forgiveness? I mean …,” Crowley trailed off, a single tear slipping from his eye. He seemed to be truly lost. 

You frowned and reached a hand towards him, your fingertips glancing over his cheek. You had never even heard a human be this honest or willing to change. “Crowley … “

“Let’s start with this,” Sam interrupted the moment and pressed the needle into Crowley’s neck, injecting the last dose.

Crowley sighed softly, the discomfort gone and contentment taking its place. He stared at you the whole time, seeming to find some comfort in your presence. 

“Let’s get ready for the last step, Y/N,” Sam told you, ushering you away from the fading King. He laid out the incantation, his lips mouthing it in a small practice.

Once it was time and Sam was ready, you stood just inside the Devil’s Trap, being there just incase Sam needed assistance. He was extremely weak. You couldn’t help but wonder if he would return to full strength or not after all of this. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, hanc animam redintegra, lustra,” Sam chanted before slicing his palm, orange light glowing beneath his skin. He walked towards Crowley, determined to finish this, but the church doors busted open once again.

However, Dean came in this time. “Sammy, stop!”

“What? Why?” Sam protested, stopping abruptly.

“Because you’ll die if you go through with this!” Dean replied, edging his way towards his brother.

“So?”

You winced as the conversation fell through the floor, leading to the brothers fighting again. You kept quiet and let them talk, knowing your place. Instead, you checked on Crowley, noticing him muttering to himself again. He was in bad shape, too. 

“How do I stop?” Sam gasped.

Dean approached and gently took Sam’s hand, using a bandanna to dress the wound. “Just let it go.” Dean took his brother into a strong hug, encouraging him to stop. 

Sam backed away and looked down at the retreating light inside of him. “Look!” Sam gasped in surprise. He smiled a little, but an excruciating pain tore through him, making him double over. 

“Watch, Crowley, Y/N!” Dean told you before taking Sam outside. 

You nodded and walked closer to Crowley, wondering when he would come around if he ever did. “How do you feel?” you asked him.

Crowley shook his head, swallowing thickly. “I feel … bad,” he breathed out, wincing at his own words. He bit his trembling lip and looked up at you. “Y/N, can you … would you help me?” he whispered.

“Help you how?” you questioned.

Crowley parted his lips to answer, but his eyes flickered behind you to the broken window. His eyes suddenly narrowed in confusion, strange lights reflecting in his eyes.

You turned and nearly gasped, the sight shocking. “What is that?” you asked as you watched the sources of light fall towards the ground.

“The angels are falling,” Dean replied from behind you.

You faced him immediately, questions threatening to pour from you. 

“I’ll explain, but Sammy’s in bad shape. I’m going to take you and Crowley back to the Bunker. Can you stick around and watch him while I figure all of this out?” Dean asked, worry set deep in his eyes.

You automatically nodded, your eyes moving to Crowley’s. A few days alone with the King of Hell? That shouldn’t go too bad. Right?


	2. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you so much for the feedback! I really appreciate each and every comment you guys leave! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter :)

“I’m taking Sammy to the hospital and then I’m going to try to find Cas. If you could just stay here and watch Crowley ….” Dean trailed off, pushing a stressed hand into his hair. 

“Dean, I’m on call whenever you need me. I’ll be here, but please take care of yourself, okay?” you told him, your words gentle. He was really in bad shape, but he had good reason to be. 

Dean sighed and nodded, moving forward to wrap his arms around you tightly, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Thanks, Y/N. Call me if you need anything and I’ll see what I can do,” Dean told you before drawing back to press a peck against your temple. He released you and gathered his bags before heading out of the Bunker, leaving you alone with the King of Hell.

You had put Crowley in the dungeon, chained and everything. He seemed to be coming around a little, which made you cautious. If his power was coming back, you needed to keep him on lockdown. You pondered on checking on him, your curiosity getting the better of you like usual. It wouldn’t hurt. 

After a failed mental argument, you started moving the shelf away from the entrance of the dungeon. You peered inside to see Crowley slouched slightly in the lone chair he sat in. Someone still wasn’t doing too good. You approached quietly, socked feet padding across the cement floor softly. 

Crowley was still able to detect the noise, his eyes fluttering open lazily and rising to gaze at you. Sweat and blood covered his face and knuckles, his appearance beaten down after the previous events. “Hello, darling,” he managed to breath out as he sat up a bit, resting his cuffed hands on the arms of the chair.

“You look beat,” you commented as you entered the Devil’s Trap. 

“I’m sure … where are Squirrel and Moose?” Crowley asked, nearly flinching at the names. He was expecting them to burst into the room with needles ready any second. 

“Busy,” you responded, not wanting to give him too much information. He was still the enemy.

“So, it’s just you and me?” 

You nodded, your eyes flickering to the collar around his neck. He was incredibly uncomfortable and that played on your feelings. Unfortunately, you were a bleeding heart towards some people. Why one of those people was him still didn’t make sense to you. “Hold on,” you sighed before darting out of the room for a few minutes. You re-entered with a wet rag and a wooden stool, falling to your emotions ultimately. You set the stool in front of him and then took a seat, your knees brushing against his.

“What are you doing?” Crowley asked, his body tensing up a bit. 

“Just cleaning these wounds. It’s bothering me,” you replied as you leaned forward, wiping away some of the blood on the left side of his face. 

Crowley flinched at your touch, his face appearing terribly confused. “St-Stop,” he suddenly said.

You pulled your hand away and returned his confused look. “What’s the matter?”

“Why are you doing this?” Crowley whispered, drawing back into the chair.

It was strange seeing him this sensitive, but you understood the human blood was still messing with him. “Crowley, relax. I’m just cleaning you up. That’s it,” you told him slowly, trying to get him to understand that what you were doing wasn’t a big deal. Sure, the boys wouldn’t really approve, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. When he seemed to calm down, you dabbed at his face again, carefully cleaning each cut that adorned his face.

Crowley’s eyes rested on you the entire time, attempting to decode you and your actions. He had never been treated like this. “Feelings are confusing,” he confessed, a weak smile forming on his lips.

“What are you feeling?” you asked as you cleaned up the blood around his mouth, your fingertips brushing over his lips momentarily. 

“I have no idea. Something … strong,” Crowley replied, his eyes narrowing slightly in puzzlement. 

You smiled a little and gently grabbed one of his hands, running the cloth across the cuts on his knuckles. “You’re probably pissed at us for jabbing needles in the your neck,” you chuckled.

Crowley’s fingers curled around the hand holding his, making your eyes shoot up. “No … I’m not angry,” he assured you, his words sincere.

You sat there for a few moments just holding his hand and looking into his eyes, his behavior still surprising you. “Oh,” you could only say. You felt like it was best that you leave for some time. Your head was so clouded. “Well, sit tight,” you told him as you pulled your hand away. You collected your things and started towards the exit, your eyes forcing themselves back on his one last time. He had those “please don’t leave me” puppy eyes that nearly made you melt on the spot. Toughen up, Y/N. “I have to shower. I’ll be back,” you reassured him, noticing his sadness fade a bit. You replaced the bookshelf and headed for the shower at a quick pace, putting some distance between the two of you. 

While you showered and moved about the Bunker wasting time, you tried to convince yourself you were feeling so drawn to Crowley because you were weak when it came to seeing people in such extremities, but you couldn’t see yourself acting this way towards just any person or demon. It was just Crowley. However, you were aware of his history. You knew he had to be charming to make his way through life. He could be suckering you right now. You had to be smart. You couldn’t let the Winchesters down. 

On that note, you decided to just go to sleep, drowning yourself in dreams rather than reality. You had to forget about the alluring demon in the Bunker before you did something stupid. Because you would. After lying in bed for a few hours and slipping in and out of sleep, you gave up, tossing your pillow across the room in fury. “Come on!” you scowled, feeling extremely irritated. You had to scratch an itch before you fell asleep. You knew that. After mentally scolding yourself, you made your way towards the dungeon, pulling your large band t-shirt down over your shorts as you walked. You ran a hand through your hair, pushing the loose strands back from your face. When you realized you were prepping yourself, you gave your head a shake before entering. 

Crowley glanced up quickly, hope flaring up in his eyes. He was still an emotional wreck for a demon. He felt very conflicted, but the emotions were very controlling over his personality. “Trouble sleeping?” he murmured, noticing the drowsiness in your movements.

You sat down cross-legged in front of him, blinking your eyes slowly as the light up ahead shined down on you. “Yeah,” you sighed, looking up at him. His voice was soothing. Very soothing. “Talk,” you muttered sleepily. 

Crowley chuckled softly. “You humans are fascinating. Being a demon is so … simple. One way road. Being human is facing so many roads, so many decisions. Makes me wonder why more of you don’t go crazy,” Crowley spoke to you, pouring out the thoughts from his head.

You smiled a little, resting your head on your hand as you listened. Your eyes fluttered lazily, his voice putting you to sleep, but in a good way. “Most of us are crazy. We just hide it better than others,” you replied quietly before a yawn broke from you. You knew you should probably go back to your bedroom, but your body refused to move from the spot. 

“Are you crazy?” Crowley laughed softly, his chest rumbling deeply. 

“I’m a hunter. What do you think?” you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“You’re off your rocker. But you’re brave, as well.”

“I think suicidal is the correct term. I mean, I’m sitting down here having a conversation with the King of Hell, who tried to have me killed not too long ago,” you muttered as you roughly rubbed your eyes, drowsiness causing them to burn slightly. 

Crowley smiled a bit, his eyes blinking slowly. “And I’m having a conversation with one of the hunters who tried to sort of kill me not too long ago.”

“It was just going to turn you human.”

“Therefore, kill the demon part of me. I actually enjoy being a demon,” Crowley commented.

You could tell parts of his old self were breaking through, creeping into his reactions and sentences. If he was kept off the human blood for a few days he would come back around in no time. “You seemed to enjoy the human blood a bit, too,” you told him, remembering the content on Crowley’s face when he was injected those last few times. 

Crowley’s eyes dropped, something close to shame tormenting his mind. He had felt something when he was injected. Something he ached to feel again. However, he knew the effects of the human blood on him were not desirable in the long run. He had a kingdom to run. “When are you letting me go?”

“When Sam and Dean let you go.”

Crowley sighed and shook his head. “Hell needs me.”

“Can’t help you,” you replied as you pushed yourself to your feet. If he played his cards right you might let him out, which you really really shouldn’t do. Time to leave. “See you tomorrow!” you called as you exited. Once you hit the pillow, you were asleep, dreams of a certain demon swallowing you whole.

~*~

A few days later, you were in the kitchen fixing coffee, your eyes slightly narrowed. You had dreams of Crowley all night long, forcing you to wake with sweat glistening on your body, which led to a cold shower at five in the morning. He had to be working some sort of demon powers on you. But that was impossible! He was powerless in that dungeon. You snapped out of your thoughts when your phone began buzzing. “Hello?”

“It’s Dean. How’re you holding up over there?”

“Fine. How’s Sam?” you asked as you walked out of the kitchen, coffee mug in hand, steam snaking from the hot beverage.

“He’s … good. A group of angels are after Cas, so Sam and I are going to try to reach him before they do. Can you hold up a few more days over there?”

“Sure,” you murmured as you walked through the Bunker, your eyes flickering towards the dungeon’s entrance a few times. 

“Hey, get Crowley to write down the names of demons and the vessels they are possessing. Even though we couldn’t put them all in a permanent time-out, we can still gank them.”

“Sure thing. Take it easy, Dean,” you replied before hanging up. You slipped your phone into your back pocket and sighed steadily, knowing you would have to go face Crowley eventually. His demonic ego was returning quickly, but a smudge of human blood still tainted his veins. He was struggling. After finishing off your coffee, you trudged down to the dungeon, a red crayon and notebook paper clutched in one hand. “Wakey wakey,” you called as you entered, your voice still slightly sluggish from lack of sleep. 

“Someone’s looking tired.”

“Shut up,” you muttered as you tossed the items onto the desk in front of him. He had requested some sort of decor in the room, so you gave him a table. “Demon names and their vessels,” you told him, tapping the edge of the paper. 

Crowley gave you a look before taking the crayon and snapping it in half with one hand, his eyes on yours as he plainly defied your orders. “No.”

Your mouth twitched a bit as you concealed a sharp comment. He was growing increasingly stubborn. “Do it or I’m going to take away your table.”

Crowley feigned an appalled look, his hands protectively grasping the table’s edge. “You wouldn’t dare!” he gasped dramatically, amusement glinting in his eyes.

“Crowley, look, I haven’t tortured you for these past few days because I’m trying to show you a bit of mercy. That can change in an instant if you get on my bad side. Just write down the names,” you warned him, your emotions raw from being fooled with.

“You don’t know torture, sweetheart.”

You scowled and stalked a few feet away from him, attempting to think up a plan to get him to submit. You knew deep down he wouldn’t do anything for you unless you did something for him. The mindset of a former crossroad demon. “I need names, Crowley. I want at least one today.”

“And I want to stretch my legs,” Crowley replied evenly, his eyes following you as you paced about the dungeon.

“I can’t let you out.”

“Just let me walk around this prison. I’ll keep the handcuffs on!” Crowley tried to bargain with you, faint hope in his eyes. He knew you wouldn’t let him escape, but a change of scenery would be nice. 

You groaned inwardly at the conflict. You needed names, but, in return, you had to let the King of Hell scurry around the Bunker. Decisions, decisions. “If I let you walk around for a few minutes－”

“Thirty minutes!”

You glared at his intrusion, but continued with his proposed time limit. “If I let you walk around for thirty minutes, you’ll give me at least three names?” 

Crowley thought for a moment, balancing the pros and cons of the deal. His eyes slimmed slightly, calculations rattling in his mind. “I think we have a deal, darling,” he finally replied, a small smile quirking up on his healing face.

“Great,” you muttered, your hand fishing around in your pocket for the key to the locks that held him captive. Sam and Dean would kill you if they found out about this.

“We have yet to seal the deal.”

“What? Are you going to whip out some contract for me to sign?” you asked as you walked around the table to stand at his side. You slipped the key into the lock of the collar around his neck, your fingers brushing against his heated skin.

“I usually seal my deals in a more … intimate way.”

You removed his collar, your thoughts blowing up in reaction to his statement. A kiss. Of course, he would play that card. He had you right where he wanted you and he knew he was becoming your weakness. “Oh, really?” you murmured quietly as you took a step back to give him space to stand.

Crowley stretched the aching muscles in his neck, a pleased groan leaving his lips at the release of pressure. He stood slowly, eyes fluttering onto you as he rose to full height. He stepped towards you, hands bound in front of him. “What do you say, sweetheart?” he whispered as he gazed down at you, his body close to yours.

You could feel the heat emitting from him, compelling you to step closer. He really was a charmer. His face came closer, but halted before touching you, waiting for your permission. As much as your body willed you forward, you had a sliver of common sense left. You weren’t going to be that easy. “I say … one minute down, twenty-nine to go. Better start stretching those legs, your Majesty,” you murmured back before smirking and walking towards the exit, self-pride glowing inside of you. He was going to have to try a little harder. However, the thought of his best efforts made you slightly nervous, and extremely excited.


	3. Deals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments, kudos, and reads! You guys are amazing :)

Five minutes down and Crowley hadn’t caused you any problems. Yet. You perched on the edge of one of the research tables, your eyes watching him intently as he explored the Bunker, hands bound in front of him. You could feel your heart throb heavily deep inside your chest, slight adrenaline channeling through you steadily as he wandered closer. “Got a name for me?” you asked, the piece of paper and broken crayon resting on the table near you.

Crowley looked over at you with a smirk, finding amusement in your obvious impatience. “Thinking,” he merely murmured as he picked up one of Dean’s magazines. He examined the girl on the cover for a moment, interest peaking. 

“Don’t ask to borrow that.”

Crowley gave you a look, eyes narrowed. “Oh, come on.”

“No,” you replied with finality. Last time you checked, prisoners weren’t supposed to have access to such pleasures. 

Crowley set the magazine back down and met your eyes, hard and challenging. “Fine. I’ll just resort to my mental images of you then,” he told you, heavy snark in his voice. 

You scowled and turned the other way, feeling heat spread across your face. He did not just say that. “I’m about to put you back, Crowley.”

“Then, no name. No deal. You didn’t seal it anyway,” Crowley retorted as he took a seat a few feet away from you. “Where’s the alcohol?”

“In the kitchen where you’re not allowed,” you told him sternly as you turned on the table, knees curled up beside you. 

“You’re starting to remind me why I wanted you killed.”

Your mouth twitched in a small smile, noting his annoyance. “I’ll be nice if you will.” 

“I am nice!”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the need for a drink, as well. “Hold on,” you muttered, succumbing to the desire. You rushed to the kitchen, not wanting to leave him alone for too long. Two glasses of whisky popped up in a short time span, your hands working quickly as growing nervousness rumbled in your chest. You whisked out of the kitchen to find Crowley sitting where he was when you left. With a sigh, you placed a glass in front of him and then hopped back up on the table a foot away, your hands carefully holding your glass. “Drink up. Freebie.”

“I like to savor things,” Crowley murmured lowly, his eyes slowly trailing up along the delicate curve of your body to meet your eyes.

A for effort. He was trying hard, but you were resisting just as hard. Resistance was key. He had to be playing you. You weren’t anything … special … why would he be interested in you but to escape? You responded by downing a mouthful of the beverage, the smooth liquid rushing across your tongue momentarily before it was gone. 

“You can’t help but be nice to me, can you?”

You set your glass down beside you and looked at him, adopting a hard glare. You had to keep him in check. “You were weak, Crowley. Like a half-drowned kitten. Tormenting a ball of wet fur doesn’t make me sleep well at night.”

“You don’t sleep well at night, anyway. Why’s that?”

You shifted on the spot, the late night memories coming back to you in a flood. The dreams were so vivid. When you woke up, you could’ve sworn you still felt his burning touch on your skin. He had put you in a corner, your eyes dropping down to try to mask your panic. “I don’t know,” you muttered quietly, arousing noises echoing in the back of your head as you tried to tuck away the dreams. 

Crowley’s lips curled up in a small grin, detecting your weakness. He watched you carefully, observing and calculating. You had put yourself in a corner. He was merely watching the show. “Kenneth Daniels,” he broke the thick silence.

You looked up with confusion, the name unfamiliar. “What?”

“The name you wanted. Kenneth Daniels.”

You reached over and snatched up the paper and pointy end of the crayon, your hands fumbling to scribble the name down. Once you were satisfied with your scratchy writing, you tucked the paper into your back pocket. You checked the time, curious on how long it had been. It was over thirty minutes. 

“How much time do I have left?” Crowley asked, trying to peer over at your phone.

You blinked a few times, conflicting thoughts clashing. “Uh … ten minutes.”

“Oh,” Crowley replied, surprise evident in his tone. He then smiled and took a short sip of his drink, his nose crinkling with disdain at the fact that it wasn’t his beloved Craig, aged 30 years. 

You weren’t sure why you lied, but it was done. Ten more minutes with the recovering demon. “How are you feeling?” you asked, unable to fully judge through his snark. 

Crowley blinked in surprise at your question, not used to hearing the phrase. “Fine, I suppose,” he murmured slowly, feeling each word on his tongue carefully. He took a longer sip of his drink this time, trying to drown the scratching of those fading feelings the human blood had brought him. 

Really now? Still struggling? You nodded and finished off your drink, the alcohol burning your throat. “Feelings suck, huh?”

Crowley chuckled a bit, the action sincere. He looked over at you and nodded his agreement, feeling a bit lighter. “In a way,” he murmured, his entire opinion cloaked. 

You let him finish his drink before leading him back to the dungeon, hearing the clanking of his handcuffs behind you. You stopped abruptly to pick up his collar, his body colliding with yours. You stumbled forward from the sudden impact, but strong hands grabbed your waist and pulled you upright, a strong chest meeting your back. 

“Sorry.” The smooth voice sounded near your ear, the soft motion of his breath brushing off your skin. His hands were firm on your hips, almost possessive. 

You froze for a moment, certain sensations exploding throughout you. His touch felt so familiar even though you knew you never experienced it in reality. “S’okay,” you murmured, your breathing weak. This was insane. One man, demon, whatever, shouldn’t have such a huge effect on you. You slipped away from his grip and retrieved his collar, hearing something like a sigh from him. “Sit,” you said gently.

Crowley obeyed and took a seat, reluctance thick in his movements. He allowed you to put the collar back on, trapping him to the spot. Before you could move away, he reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Y/N.”

You stopped in your steps and met his gaze, pushing him to continue. 

“I want to make another deal soon.”

You pondered on the thought. Another deal. “So, I get some more names?”

“How many depends on your offer.”

You nodded after a moment, thinking that sounded fair. “I’ll get back to you on that in the morning,” you told him before exiting the dungeon, your chest buzzing with anticipation. The obvious offer would be to let him roam, but what if there was something else you could offer? Something different. 

You wasted the rest of the day roaming around the Bunker and thinking of your offer, endless possibilities presenting themselves. One stuck, though. You weren’t sure how he was going to take it, but there was only one way to find out. You retreated to bed and slipped into sleep, immediately being tormented by intense dreams. Crowley running his fingers across your bare thighs. Crowley laying soft kisses down your stomach. Crowley. Crowley. Crowley. You woke up with a gasp, his name vibrating on your tongue. Damn it! You couldn’t force him from your mind. You had to see him, had to be in his intimidating presence. It was three in the morning. Early, yes, but still morning. 

After cleaning yourself up and pulling on dry clothes, you padded to the dungeon, your cheeks still slightly flushed with redness. The ache of arousal still pained you, but you ignored it as best as you could. You pushed the bookcase away and entered, your walk slightly awkward as your body buzzed with want. “Let’s make a deal,” you told the surprised demon.

“Okay,” Crowley replied, not really having anything more to say as you moved to the front of him. He could feel the heat from your body. A crooked smile worked its way onto his bearded face, curious about your proposal. “What’s it going to be, sweetheart?”

“Blood. Human blood,” you answered in one breath.

Crowley’s smile plummeted off his face, his body tensing up at your offer. He wasn’t expecting that at all. “You still have Moose’s blood－”

“No, my blood,” you cut him off, your eyes and tone serious. Under all the snark and comments about the horrible nature of feelings, you were still able to detect a lingering want from him. Something about the human blood made him feel different, and you thought he kind of liked that. 

Crowley swallowed thickly, pondering on your words. A dose of human blood. The one thing that was destroying him, but healing him at the same exact time. He had a bloody kingdom to run! But he wasn’t going anywhere soon. Would one dose really hurt? He could feel a tug deep inside of him, his body screaming for the addictive substance. He had taken so much his body had begun to crave it. “Two names for one dose of your blood,” he finally told you, his words forced.

“Three. I don’t like needles.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes slightly, weighing the offers. The hazel orbs ran along your body, feeling the motion of the blood rushing through you. His tongue caressed his bottom lip for a millisecond, white teeth tugging at the tissue soon after as he imagined how it would feel to shoot your blood up into his system. That was one way of physically connecting the two of you. “Deal.”

“Deal,” you whispered, your words glancing off the dungeon walls. His eyes beckoned to you. Scratch that. His entire being beckoned to you. You swallowed and then exited, immediately heading for the medical tray that held everything you needed. You wheeled it back into the dungeon, a nervous shaking sensation traveling along your body. You were giving Crowley a part of you. Maybe that wasn’t a big deal to some people, but sharing some of your very essence with the King of Hell was definitely something new. And something the Winchesters would advise against. “In your neck?” you asked uncertainly as you prepared the injection.

“It’s faster.”

You nodded and pressed the point of the needle against your arm, your veins lying close below the surface. You hated needles. With a shaky sigh, you pushed in, your teeth gritting in discomfort as you pushed the plunger up with your thumb, crimson rising in the clear barrel.

Crowley didn’t even notice your struggle as he watched the blood collect, his eyes glazed over with a desperate need. His lips parted slightly as a long breath exited him, his body tense.

You finally removed the needle from your body, your bottom lip trembling slightly as the discomfort and pain faded. You sighed and approached him, one hand gripping his shoulder as you readied the injection. “Ready?”

“Do it,” Crowley breathed, his head leaning to the side.

You gave his shoulder a squeeze before pushing the needle deep into his neck.


	4. Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your support is extraordinary! I also changed my username! Thank you to each and every single one of you for your comments, kudos, and reads! :D

For the first few moments, all Crowley could comprehend was the beating of your heart. Your blood shot through him like lightning, singeing his nerves and filling his veins. His breathing slowed, eyes wide and glistening as he stared out into space, trying to get a grasp on the reality he was fading away from. 

“Crowley. Hey,” you murmured, your voice a distorted mumble to his ears. You leaned over to the front of him, meeting his hazy eyes, trying to capture his attention. When he didn’t respond, you roughly patted his cheek, the sharp sounds echoing throughout the dungeon. “Hey!”

Like he had stumbled out of a daze, Crowley blinked his eyes rapidly, finally coming around. “Sorry,” he muttered, slightly wincing at the dull pain in his neck. 

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” you asked as you set down the syringe. He looked like he had just taken a punch to the stomach.

Crowley swallowed before answering, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Just a bit … overwhelmed. Maybe I could get some air?” he asked me, perspiration breaking out on his forehead. 

He really didn’t look good. Well, he looked good, but his face had visibly paled. Being locked in a dungeon with barely any moving air for days with foreign blood rushing through you probably wouldn’t make a person feel too hot. Again, you felt kind of bad for him. You knew a dose of fresh air would help him through the first wave of the blood rush. A small wooded area lied right next to the Bunker, secluded and open. Maybe you could just take a quick walk? You wouldn’t mind a walk either. “If you try anything, I’ll ruin you,” you warned him before removing the collar.

Crowley gazed at you in utter surprise, not making any sudden movements. “What are you doing?” he asked as he watched you walk towards the exit.

“We’re taking a little walk. Handcuffs on,” you told him, crooking a finger to motion for him to follow you out. Once he got to his feet, he stumbled a bit on the first step, the blood rushing to his head momentarily as his balance shifted. You rushed forward and grabbed his arm, supporting some of his weight on your side as you helped steady him.

A slight red flush covered his cheeks, obviously embarrassed that he needed so much help. He cleared his throat and nodded his thanks, moving away from you to walk out of the dungeon on his own. “Where are we going?”

“Out,” you replied as you pulled on your jacket. You grabbed your combat knife and tucked it in your back pocket, making sure he could see. Like it would help you, but at least you weren’t unarmed. You led him outside a minute later, taking in a deep breath and savoring the chilled air that surrounded you. “Fuuuuck, that feels good,” you groaned, spinning around in an enthusiastic circle, arms out. 

Crowley watched you with a growing smile, certain warm sparks going off in his mind. He didn’t really know what they were, but he didn’t really care. He was too busy watching you. “I take it you don’t get out much?”

You stopped spinning, gently stumbling as your head spun a bit. “I’ve been babysitting you,” you laughed softly before heading down the road. 

Crowley smirked and joined you at your side, enjoying the fresh air, as well. He sighed softly and gazed around the area, his eyes watching a few brown leaves swirl towards the ground. “Maybe you can move my chair out here?” he chuckled.

“Pshh, out in public? People would see you and have a fit!”

“What people?” Crowley replied, glancing around the quiet area. 

You were about to reply when you suddenly heard rattling. It came in a bouncing rhythm. “What’s that?” you murmured more to yourself, your eyes squinting to gaze out in front of you. Two shapes came into view, heading towards you. An older lady and a small dog. “Damn it,” you cursed as they quickly approached. People barely ever came near the Bunker. If she saw Crowley in chains, you might be paying the local jail a visit. “Put your hands in your pockets!” you hissed to Crowley, moving in front of him to try to block the lady’s view.

“I can’t! The chain is still in view!” Crowley grumbled as he rattled his handcuffs in irritation. “Take them off!”

“No!” you snapped, noticing the sound come closer and closer. You were nearly out of options. Nearly. Wow, this was going to be hella awkward, but it beat being arrested. You pulled him to the side of the sidewalk and slipped under the chain, forcing it to caress your back as you pressed up against Crowley’s chest, your cheek bumping against his. You turned the two of you so that you hid behind Crowley’s frame, the chain completely out of sight. Nice thinking, but now you were face-to-face with the King of Hell. The gentle breeze whipped across your cheeks, adding on to the growing redness that adorned your skin. “Act … natural?” you murmured, your eyes resting on his.

Crowley’s hands stiffly rested on your back for a moment, his mind contemplating on whether or not to make a move. Usually, he would just go ahead and put himself out there, but he was having second thoughts for some reason. Would you want that? Did you even feel about him that way? Cold nervousness crept through him, making his body tense. He took a gentle breath and just looked at you, taking in your Y/E/C eyes, your pink lips, your matching nervousness. He hadn’t seen anything as beautiful, as perfect. An ache appeared in his chest that he hadn’t felt before, surprising him. His heart ached for you. The pounding of the lady’s passing footsteps echoed in his head, the color of your eyes forcing everything into the background. He gently pressed his lips against yours, the action almost too light to feel.

A gasp became caught in your throat at his move, but you didn’t pull away. Why would you? Well, there was the fact that Sam and Dean would have both of your heads and, also, that he was your prisoner, but you honestly didn’t care at that point. All you could focus on was the surprising softness and tenderness of the King of Hell’s kiss. You gently pushed back against him, experimenting, taking in his taste. Faint whiskey. Your eyes fluttered closed as you tentatively placed your hands on his biceps, your fingers curling around the strong muscles. 

Crowley pulled you closer, engulfing you in the warmth of his body, blocking off the winds that were beginning to pick up. He gripped your waist, holding you tight, keeping you steady. Strong sensations were going off inside of him, building up, threatening to explode. These … feelings were taking over. When he felt like his heart would burst from his chest, he pulled away, but not too far since the chain grabbed at your back. He blinked a few times, his eyes darting about as he caught his breath, obviously overwhelmed a bit. 

You felt his chest rise and fall deeply against yours, the pace equal. What had you just done? It appeared like Crowley was having conflicting thoughts, as well. Why wouldn’t he? That wasn’t just a simple kiss. You decided to ponder on it later. Possibly with a drink. After clearing your throat awkwardly, you slipped under the chain and began the quiet walk back to the Bunker. 

Crowley followed, lips tingling from the sensation. One dose of human blood was already making him lose it. But it felt so good. His very veins throbbed, desiring another wave of the complex, foreign blood. “Y/N,” he murmured once he entered the Bunker.

You stopped in your steps and turned to face him, slightly surprised he was talking to you. “Yeah?”

“I have those three names for you.”

“Oh,” you murmured, disappointment laced in your tone. What had you expected him to say? You walked off to scavenge for more paper and a crayon, mild frustration growing. Your eyes flickered over to him for a second, catching him lightly touching his lips with his fingertips. He seemed astonished and amazed, the action so cautious and light. A small smile tugged at your lips. You felt the same way. You snatched up the materials and walked back over, nerves building up. Did he have anything to say? 

Crowley gave you a nod and proceeded to jot down a few names in neat handwriting. “These three have it coming anyway,” he muttered as he slid the piece of paper over to you. His eyes lifted to meet yours, intensity striking the both of you. 

“Thanks … uh … I should probably get you back in the dungeon,” you replied quietly, your hand moving to take the paper. The intensity of his gaze distracted you, making you not even realize your hand was lying on top of his. It was an intimate touch; one that nearly stopped time. 

Crowley broke the stare to look down at your hands. It took a second for his mind to even register the kind touch. No one was ever so gentle with him. He slightly turned his hand so that he could hold yours, allowing them to fit together perfectly. He looked back up at you, adopting soft eyes that nearly made you melt. 

In that single moment you didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Right there, everything felt accomplished. Everything felt … good. And you were just holding his hand. You were connected again and that brought the two of you a certain feeling, a certain rapture that had never been tapped into before. You felt his free hand on your cheek, gently pulling your face towards his. However, perfect moments do not exist without disruptions. Your cell phone rang shrilly, alerting you of the Winchesters’ need. A string of curse words were spat from you as you ripped your phone from your pocket. “What?!”

“Nice to hear from you too, princess.”

You sighed and took a step back to claim your cool. “Sorry, Dean. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to let you know that Sam and I will be back late tomorrow.”

You were happy to finally see the boys, but that meant that this whole babysitting gig was up, as well. “That’s great! Stay safe until then, you hear?” you forced a high pitch to express your dulled joy.

“You too. See you, Y/N.”

You pocketed your phone and then looked at Crowley. “They’ll be home tomorrow,” you told him, your words nearly sounding like an apology. 

Crowley nodded and wordlessly shuffled back to the dungeon, his spirits darkening. Even though the time had been confusing and mentally painful, he had enjoyed these few days alone with you. He sat in his chair and let you chain him back up, his expression saddened. “You’ll visit me one more time at least, right?” he chuckled, but his words were full of desperation.

You smiled and nodded, promising the future visit. You left the dungeon and let yourself recover from the day’s events by cleaning up the Bunker, Dean’s music blasting through a speaker. You weren’t a fan of cleaning, but it seemed to keep you busy and focused. It was nearly ten at night by the time you finished and showered. You retired to your bed and hoped for a good night’s sleep, but there was always that itch that needed scratching ….

~*~

This was ridiculous. You stared up into the darkness, sleep fading away every ticking second. Your chest felt heavy, your body uncomfortable against the soft mattress. There was this pulling feeling you couldn’t get rid of. It nearly hurt because it was so persistent, so strong. Frustrated tears sprang to your eyes, your mind terribly conflicted. It felt like he was calling out to you. You couldn’t take it anymore! Maybe the lack of sleep was driving you crazy, but you felt like you had to be near Crowley. With a desperate ripping motion, you flung the covers off and stumbled to the dungeon, your band shirt swaying gently across your bare thighs. 

Crowley looked up quickly as you entered, his appearance shaken like yours. “I-I shouldn’t have taken your blood. This didn’t happen with Sam, but I … I don’t know,” Crowley spilled any fragments of an explanation he had. 

“You feel it too? This connection?” you asked as you walked towards him, feeling the air grow thicker as you came closer and closer to the King of Hell.

Crowley nodded slowly. “I can’t stand it when you’re not in the same room as me,” he confessed quietly.

You couldn’t explain the bond that had come about between the two of you, but you really wanted to learn more about it, explore it. Once you came as close as you could, you eased yourself onto his lap, closing in the distance until your chests touched. 

A light gasp fell from his lips, the contact shocking, but comforting. His hands hesitantly grabbed onto your hips, the handcuffs’ chain resting against your lower stomach. Crowley tilted his head up towards you, but the collar held him back, frustration flashing in his eyes.

You ran your hands slowly up his firm arms, taking in the build, absorbing the warmth. You had wanted this, had wanted him for so long. The want was deep beneath the surface, but the sharing of blood, the kiss, had helped it break free. “This is wrong,” you found yourself whispering, feeling his heart beat quickly and fiercely. 

“Why does everything have to be right? Have to be good? What does that earn you? Good night’s sleep? Self-pride?” 

Not even that. You shared a deep look with him before capturing his lips, hearing the collar’s chain rattle as he pushed against you, something deeper and more complex than lust and affection driving your motions. Reflexes sharpened, noise heightened, as the intense seconds passed, pushing you further into the unknown where all sorts of things were forbidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-warning for next chapter: Explicit content (a.k.a. the sex we've (mostly me) have been waiting for)


	5. Exordium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Explicit Content
> 
> A/N: Thank you for the feedback! Finally, here is the chapter! Hope you enjoy :)

Seconds faded into minutes as you melted more and more into Crowley’s touch. Electricity seemed to flow from his fingertips, powering you up and making your skin sing with delight. Your fingertips glossed over his suit and tie, lightly grasping the material as he gently nipped at your bottom lip. Breathing began to prove itself difficult as the air grew heavier.

Crowley’s hands were set on exploring as much as the handcuffs would let him. He gently pushed his hands up under your shirt, his fingertips skimming gently over your stomach. When a tenseness shuddered through your body, he left pecks along your jawbone, leaving comforting words in their wake. “I think I’m becoming addicted,” he whispered to you.

You smiled a bit, your heartbeat quickening ever so slightly. You shared the feeling. After meeting his eyes for a short moment, you began trailing your hands down his torso, expression suggestive. You wanted to be as close to him as possible, and judging from the hungry glint in his eyes, he wanted it, as well. "I think we both need a fix," you replied as your hands stopped at the waist of his pants.

"You've made me wait, sweetheart. Patience is not one of my virtues," Crowley hissed the words near your ear, each syllable dripping with an aching lust.

"You have virtues? Wow, you are changing," you murmured as your fingers teased at the button. You felt his chest expand in an agitated breath, his patience close to snapping. You wanted him close to breaking. Then, he would understand how you had felt for the past week.

Crowley pushed his hands further up your shirt, exploring the smooth base of your chest. "No bra? Naughty girl," he mused as his fingertips glanced over your nipples.

Sharp sensations shot through your nerves, his touch electrifying. You let out a shaky breath, teeth clenched slightly as you tried to control yourself. You felt yourself slipping already.

Crowley lifted your shirt up over your head, leaving you in only your panties. "Oh, how I'm going to ravish you," he growled, his hands latching onto your sides as he pulled you forward on his lap, his arousal straining beneath you. He left small licks around your breasts, breathing gently on your skin to tease you.

You placed a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself, your head spinning in arousal as he came so close. "Crowley," you groaned, wishing he would stop tiptoeing around you. The cold chain of the handcuffs rested on your stomach, heightening your senses.

Crowley leaned next to your ear again, a small smile on his face. "Remove the collar."

You scowled a bit at his request, still uneasy about letting him roam. Especially with the near arrival of the Winchesters. This would be his last chance to break free. "No."

Crowley pulled back a bit to look at you, adrenaline powering his attitude. "No? How about a deal?"

"I'm listening." You couldn't help but be interested in what he had to say. It was Crowley. What wasn't interesting about him?

"Remove the collar and the handcuffs and I'll ravish you so well that it would put your obvious fantasies to shame," Crowley replied, a knowing smirk on display.

So, he knew he was the cause of your lack of sleep? Part of you wanted to tell him off, but the pounding in your head and lower blocked nearly everything else out. You couldn't deny your lust towards him, but you still had a job to do. "Just the collar."

"You want to negotiate?" Crowley smirked, thinking he had the upperhand.

"Just the collar and you can have me. All of me," you murmured to him as you gently rolled your hips, trapping his cock beneath you. You could feel his wanting, and you knew you had him.

Crowley's eyes roamed over your body, drinking in your image that he himself had often wondered about. He subtly licked his lips, forcing himself to come to a quick decision. "Deal," he replied.

You smiled and leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his lips, sealing the deal. You slid off his lap and retrieved the key from the nearby table, body humming in anticipation. You could feel the want drip from you. And quite literally. You slid the damp fabric of your panties off and then padded over to situate yourself back on his lap, the rough material of his slacks providing wanted friction. As you began unlocking the lock on his collar you slightly grinded down on him, not even thinking about what you were doing.

Crowley instantly noticed the sensual movements of your hips, feeling uneven pressure on his pounding arousal. He placed a gentle hand on your thigh, his thumb reaching over to rub at your exposed clit.

A startled breath escaped you, euphoric warmth shooting through your body at his rubbing motions. “Fuck,” you whispered, your fingers slipping off the lock momentarily as the sensations nearly overwhelmed you. Once he slowed his pace, you managed to remove the collar and throw it to the ground, its material making a loud clatter as it landed.

Crowley rolled his neck slowly, lips parted in pleasure as the tension faded. He looked at you with a small smile, eyes darkened with deep lust. “A deal’s a deal,” he murmured as he put his arms around you, chain against your lower back. He pushed his hips up against you suggestively, making your cheeks flush. He could feel the blood boiling beneath his skin, your human essence causing his sex drive to nearly burst.

You brought your hands down and hurriedly undid his pants, fingers tugging and pulling desperately. You pushed a hand inside, palm gliding across the slick surface of his arousal. A soft groan from him encouraged you to move on. You freed his thick cock from the dark fabric, his slit overrunning with a generous amount of pre-cum. You recalled a rumor about him selling his soul for an extra three inches. Perhaps, he passed that on to his vessel? Your curiosity died beneath your want, the aching bringing you back to what didn’t feel like reality at all.

Crowley leaned forward to lay a few open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, warmth splotching across your skin at his touch. He worked his way up your neck as you slowly stroked him, both of you so absorbed in the mutual pleasure. “Y/N. I can’t wait any longer,” he groaned against your throat, his hands caressing your back.

The feeling was mutual. Any nervousness faded as he brought his lips to yours, tongue gently slipping inside to push sensually against yours. You lifted yourself and hovered above him, the head of his cock gliding through your slick folds. You held onto his shoulders before lowering yourself, taking him deep inside, allowing him to connect with you in the most intimate way. A slight gasp was muffled against his lips, his closeness dulling your discomfort. Surprisingly gentle hands held you for a moment, soothing you as you relaxed.

At your nod, he controlled your movements, lifting you up and then pushing you down on his cock. His eyes fluttered closed, his forehead pressing against yours as you moved. “Ahh … fuck,” he mouthed, the overwhelming sensations rubbing his fresh feelings raw. His nails lightly dug into your skin as he bettered his grip, pulling you down harder.

You had his suit jacket in tight handfuls, your composure fading fast. You started to move on your own, arousal driving your movements. “Mm … yes. Harder,” you moaned, heat rolling through your body.

Crowley obeyed your request and slammed you down hard enough to make you see stars. “Yeah, like that?” he breathed, his eyes opening to watch you bounce. He ran his hands up your back, letting you take control for the moment. Waves of rapture were forming, the feeling incredibly intense to him. He clutched your shoulder blades, pulling you flush against him, providing more friction as you rode him with everything you had. The handcuffs dug into his wrists, leaving marks, but the sharp pain complimented the pleasure. To Crowley, what was pleasure without a little pain?

You curled your arms around his neck, breasts pressed against his broad chest. Everything was coursing through you so fast. You felt yourself breaking, the bliss forcing cracks in your composure. “Oh! Oh … Crowley,” you gasped your pleasure, feeling his hips press up against you, driving himself deeper into you.

Crowley thrusted up into you again, sending jolts of rapture through you as he hit that one sweet spot. “That’s right, love. Say my name,” he ordered you, his movements off beat, but effective as he neared that longly anticipated edge.

His words helped move you right along, feeding the fire burning deep inside you. “Crowley,” you moaned, your eyes flickering to his as you rolled your hips.

“Is this what you dream about, sweetheart? Me fucking you so bloody good?” Crowley murmured, a lustful growl laced within his low tone.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, I’m going to cum so hard,” you nearly whimpered, your fingers trailing into his soft hair.

“Damn right you are,” Crowley breathed, momentarily biting his lip to fight off the rocking orgasm for a few more beats. He ran one hand up into your hair, fingers tangling within the strands as he pulled your face forward for a deep kiss, breathless gasps exchanged in the process. He pulled you down hard one last time, sending you both into an intense state of pure euphoria. Hands held on tight, breaths were lost, and movements eventually slowed to a stop, the deliciously sinful noises dying on your lips.

Words couldn’t describe the way you felt at that moment. The heat hummed through your body as you came down, your throat stinging raw. You felt him gently pull out, but he didn’t make a single movement after that. Neither did you. You rested against him, listening to him catch his breath. Eternity in this spot didn’t sound too bad. You felt his hands slide down your back comfortingly, the rough feel of his palms increasing your drowsiness.

“Sleep. Big day tomorrow,” Crowley’s voice broke through the thick silence.

And at his command, you slept, curled against the King of Hell’s frame, your blood still pounding through his veins, addiction in its wake.  

****  
  
  



	6. Balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback! Bit of a slow patch here, but things build up.

The next day could only be described as hectic. Evidence of you and Crowley’s incident were few physically, but, inside, you were a total mess. Your body still hummed with the feel of his fingertips, of his lips, of the soft whisper of his words against your skin. The inner pull still weighed heavily on your very soul, drawing your eyes towards the dungeon as you readied the Bunker for the boys’ arrival. Just act cool. How could you? You slept with the King of Hell! The Winchesters’ prisoner! But he was so much more than that. There was more to him than the snark and the black suit. 

“Y/N.”

You heard his soft call, your entire being perking up like an excited puppy. Like you were in a trance, you stumbled to the Bunker, your eyes immediately finding his across the dungeon. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to see you again,” Crowley murmured, eyes soft. He could feel the gentle pumping of your blood through his veins, the feeling orgasmic and addicting. He wanted more, so bad. 

You smiled a little, the side of your mouth curling up. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now,” Crowley replied, a small smile accompanying his comment. The rapture from last night hung in his body like a thick fog, cloaking his mind and blurring his thoughts. All he could focus on was you. 

You crossed over to him and then sank down at his feet between his legs, your cheek resting against his inner thigh. Your eyes peered up at him, speaking every word and emotion you felt. It was all so confusing, but you were drawn to him, and you were having trouble finding the will to stay away. 

“Will you leave?”

You looked away for a moment as you thought. You hadn’t really thought about that. Did you leave when the Winchesters came back? You did your job. However, you felt like things weren’t complete yet. “No,” you answered quietly.

Crowley's cuffed hand reached out to gently caress your cheek, eyes hazy. The action pulled you upwards, bringing your face close to his. He leaned to the side near your ear, lips parted slightly. "I need more," he whispered to you, his hands clutching your wrists firmly to express his extreme desire. His fingertips skimmed over your pulse, outlining the veins running beneath your skin. He swallowed thickly, his mind reaching out to feel the steady pump of blood through your system. He wasn't used to this sort of desperation, this weight, which made his cravings waver, internally fighting his growing addiction.

You nearly shuddered at the intensity in his voice. He was definitely hooked. Would the Winchesters be suspicious? 

"Please."

His lips trailing along the smooth base of your neck distracted you from your thoughts, your eyes fluttering closed. "The Winchesters," you managed to whisper.

Crowley turned his head, his beard skimming across your cheek. He seemed to ignore your comment as he gently nosed his way towards your lips, his breathing growing heavier. He met your eyes briefly before pressing a warm, full kiss against your lips, stealing your breath in the simple, but intense action.

You knew you should probably leave because the Winchesters were due any second, but he forced everything but himself into the background. You slipped one wrist away from him to place your hand on his jaw, your fingers sifting through the softness of his beard. This was a damn perfect moment, and it wouldn't be perfect without a Winchester disrupting it.

"Y/N?"

The call came from way off in the Bunker, but it still sent you into a panic mode. You jerked away from Crowley, face flushed. "Shit! Uh ... Um ... Just stay here!" You told Crowley before darting towards the exit.

"Where am I going to go?" Crowley called after you, throwing his hands up.

You ignored the slight snark and ducked into the kitchen, hurriedly throwing items on the table to make it look like you were busy cooking instead of busy locking lips with the King of Hell. Jesus. What the hell were you doing? "Kitchen!"

Not long after your answer, the boys entered with a familiar man that used to wear a trench coat.

You broke out into a smile, portraying your happiness for their safe return silently. "Hey, Cas. Long time, no see," you greeted your old friend.

"Hello, Y/N," Castiel greeted you back, the raspiness in his tone still evident. Not all of him had changed since the last time you saw him. 

"Sam, you feeling okay?" You checked up on the younger brother, sympathy in your eyes. There was no telling what they had went through while you were at the Bunker.

"I'm ... I'm good," Sam replied with a small nod.

"Dean?"

"Swell," Dean replied as he leaned against the kitchen counter, obviously exhausted.

"Well, story time later. Cas, you need a shower, dude," you laughed lightly before taking his arm and leading him towards the shower, leaving the boys to talk.

"Dean told me you've been here watching Crowley," Castiel commented as he followed, steps slow.

"Oh, yeah. He's kinda in a time-out, you know?" You replied as you entered the shower room, your hand outstretching to snatch a towel off the shelf.

"Yes, I understand. How are you doing? We have not spoken since Sam and Dean started the trials," Castiel replied as he shed his button down. 

You adjusted the water for him, noting his exhausted state. "I'm fine. Just glad to be away from home for awhile," you murmured, tossing the towel on the counter top.

"You don't wish to be with your family?"

You put on a plastic smile and shrugged. "Just need some space. Now, shower. Remember to use soap," you teased him with a gentle nudge as you left before he had the chance to ask anymore questions. You entered the main room to see Sam and Dean seated and talking. "Cas?" you immediately asked, sensing something off about him.

"No more wings," Dean replied around his burrito.

"Jeez," you muttered before sitting. You had the brothers fill you in on the world news, keeping you up to date on all the trouble that was going on. "One thing still doesn't really make sense. Sam. He just suddenly gets better?" You questioned.

Dean seemed to nearly break out into a cold sweat at your question, but he battled it off with a shrug and a nod. "Hey, maybe miracles do happen?"

Sam scoffed and shook his head as Castiel entered, dressed and clean. 

"I am really enjoying this place. Plentiful food. Good water pressure. Things I never even considered before. There really is a lot to being human, isn't there?" Castiel happily commented as he strode towards the table.

You smiled, the man's enthusiastic energy affecting you. It was nice to see Castiel not so serious or troubled. Hell, it felt like a privilege to see Sam or Dean smile. Your eyes flickered towards the direction of the dungeon for a few seconds, the boys' voices droning on in the distance. You couldn't help but wonder what Crowley was doing. Could he hear the lively conversation going on? Did he wish he was a part of it? Did he hate to be alone? Sadness started to creep into your mind, but Dean suddenly choking roused you. "Wow! What?"

Dean swallowed hard to clear his throat. He pointed at Castiel, shock in his eyes. "You had sex with April?" 

Castiel awkwardly nodded in response.

"So … did you have protection?" Dean smirked, laughing through his surprise.

“I had my angel blade.”

The seriousness of his tone made you crack up, your head shaking in disbelief. Castiel was incredibly handsome, or his vessel was, and had great character, so interaction was expected sooner or later, but it still seemed astonishing. Cas was … well, Cas. Innocent, baby-in-a-trench-coat, Cas. 

After the laughter died down, Castiel glanced at you. “Are there any more burritos?”

“Yeah, yeah, come on,” you chuckled, motioning for him to follow you into the kitchen. “So, how was it? Well, until she stabbed you,” you asked him as you pulled open the door to the fridge.

“Words cannot describe it,” Castiel sighed, remembrance lingering in his voice. 

You sighed and handed him his food, meeting eyes with him. “You’ll find someone, Cas. They might be right in front of you and you don’t even realize it, but it’ll come to you when you least expect it.”

Castiel gave you a confused look, trying to decipher your words.

“You’ll see what I mean eventually,” you told him before heading back into the main room. You could’ve sworn you felt tension in the room, but you brushed it off as normal. Dean looked pretty somber, though.

“Y/N, let’s take a trip to the dungeon,” Sam told you as he stood. He led you off, leaving Dean to join Castiel in the library alone. Sam strode inside, nearly making you jog to keep up. “Has he caused trouble?”

“Pshh, he’s the King of Hell. What do you think?” you muttered, giving Crowley a hopeless shrug from behind Sam. What else could you say? You had to maintain your “rivalry” with him when the boys were around. 

“Any names?”

“Yeah, I wrote them down on a notepad in the main room. We can go ahead and look them up,” you suggested, trying to herd Sam out of the room before he pried about anything that happened while he was gone. 

“How we doing, Crowley?” Sam asked, his tone crude. 

“Fine. Can’t say the same about you, though, Moose,” Crowley automatically defended himself, throwing up his external, sarcastic guard. 

You couldn’t help but smirk at the pure snark. He was constantly asking for trouble, meaning he could turn into Sam and Dean’s punching bag in an instant. “Alright, visiting hours are over,” you nudged Sam, pretending to be overly annoyed by the demon. 

“More like seconds,” Crowley muttered, mouth twisting into a frown as you headed for the exit. He would have to get used to sitting alone for hours now that the Winchesters were back, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. 

You ducked your head as you exited, willing your eyes away from the bound king. You couldn’t break now. Not with Sam with you. You returned to the main room to see Dean sitting alone, beer in hand and a frown settled deep on his face. “Where’s Cas?” you questioned.

“He … uh … had to leave,” Dean replied, eyes flashing to Sam momentarily before rapidly shooting down. 

“What? Why?” Sam asked, sharing your confusion. 

“He was worried that he would bring trouble down on us, so he split,” Dean spilled in a breath, obviously bothered by the absence of the former blue-eyed angel. 

The weight of lies and secrets really hung heavy in the air, and you could feel it constantly. However, it had been a tough week or so. There was no point in cracking down on the Winchesters now. “Hey, guys, do you mind if I hang around here for a few more days? Not ready to go home yet,” you asked of them, adding your own little secret to the mix.

“Of course not. Make yourself at home,” Sam replied, motioning his hand around to any of the spare rooms. 

After thanking them and exchanging a few recounts from the past week, you turned in, hoping to sleep well, but, like Crowley, you had a little addiction. That persistent tug on your soul, your mind, your blood, kept nagging you through the minutes, the sky darkening as your restlessness increased. Things were different now, though. You really had to block out this connection while the Winchesters were in close proximity, or you were going to face some terrible consequences.

~*~

“We have to find the wicked witch!”

You thought things would run smoothly once the Winchesters returned, but things immediately took a dive. After inviting Charlie over to check out some old Men of Letters’ equipment, Dorothy, from Oz, appeared within this world, bringing the wicked witch with her. “Let’s split up,” you told the group before dashing off, your feet taking you towards a familiar room. You shoved the shelf to the side and entered the dungeon slowly, knife in your hand. 

“Hello, love.”

The purr sent a shiver down your spine, but you kept your serious composure. A dangerous creature was on the loose and you had no idea where she was. “Seen any witches?” you asked as you approached him, eyes flickering around. 

“Witches?” Crowley murmured in confusion, eyes narrowing slightly. Right when he got the word out, shuffling came from the entrance. “Get behind me,” Crowley hissed to you, motioning with his cuffed hands.

You ducked behind his chair just as the witch entered, a sharp hissing sound coming from her as she spotted Crowley. You breathed softly, admittedly feeling safer with Crowley in close proximity, even with him being powerless. 

Crowley rested his hands on the table in front of him, engaging in a calm, mostly one-sided conversation with the intruder to keep her distracted from you. “Key? Why don’t you check the kitchen, lovely?” Crowley told her, eyes forward and focused. 

After a responding hiss, the wicked witch departed, intent on finding the key to Oz.

“Come on out,” Crowley murmured softly to you, turning his head to peek at your huddled form.

You crept out of your hiding spot, taking deeper breaths. “Thanks, Crowley,” you told him sincerely, your hand outstretching to rest on his. 

Crowley gazed at you for a second, a gentle smile crossing his face at your touch. The realization of the passion of the moment led him into clearing his throat and shrugging. “Well, couldn’t let Wicked wipe you off the map so quickly,” Crowley murmured, eyes glancing around everywhere but your hands. He didn’t want his source of addiction taken out, either. However, his co-dependency on it was not something he was proud of. It was either fight the addiction or succumb to it, and his emotions on the topic were so jumbled he couldn’t make up his damn mind. He closed his eyes briefly, squeezing them tight in frustration.

“Hey, you okay?” you asked, your fingertips touching the sides of his face gently.

Crowley, at first, resisted opening his eyes, but he couldn’t help at least taking a peek. Eyes of conflicting brown and green shades met yours, a conflict shown in them. “This can’t be … I shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured, barely believing the words that exited his mouth. 

You could tell the blood’s effects were wearing off. One dose wouldn’t suit him for long. These constant ups and downs were screwing with the both of you, but, deep down, you knew it would never end unless he was one or the other. Human or demon. Before you could respond, heavy footsteps approached, forcing you to back away.

Crowley slipped quickly into character, adopting a tune to whistle as the boys made their entrance. “Well, if it isn’t the Scarecrow and the Tin Man. Your new houseguest … so misunderstood,” Crowley commented, a smirk on his face. 

“What does she want?” Sam asked.

“I'd be happy to tell you, as soon as I get to stretch my legs,” Crowley replied, a devilish tone underlining his statement. 

Dean sighed and tossed the keys to you as Sam raised his gun, training it on Crowley in case he made a move.

You unlocked the neck cuff, feeling Crowley tense slightly at your touch. You stepped back, allowing him to stand and stretch, your eyes moving along the pull of his shoulders and muscles beneath his overcoat and suit jacket. Impressive was the word that came to mind. 

"What does the witch want?" Sam asked, narrowed eyes peering over the top of his gun.

"Give me a moment. I still need to air myself out."

When it came to Crowley, Dean barely had any patience. He raised his gun and shot, extracting a loud, shocked gasp from you. Dean gave you a confused look, not understanding your extreme reaction. 

"I'm going to go look for the witch," you murmured, excusing yourself from the stares. You held your knife at your side and headed for the corridors, knowing the witch was lurking about.

"But he hasn't told us what she wanted yet!" Sam called after you.

You ignored the call and continued on, ridiculing yourself for freaking out. You knew a bullet wouldn't hurt Crowley, but your heart was still nearly pounding out of your chest. You actually feared for him. "Get it together, Y/N," you muttered as you strode into the kitchen. 

A shadow shot across the room, disturbed by your entrance. A green bolt crackled across the room towards you, catching you off guard. 

You let your reflexes take over and dove to the side, the deadly strike ripping a cabinet clean from the wall. The wooden mass toppled right on top of you, driving its corner against your temple and crushing you against the floor. A painful cry left you at the sudden impact, but you were out cold by the time you hit the ground. 

Luckily, the witch took you for dead and exited, still searching for the specific key.

"In here!" 

Sam and Dorothy rushed inside, having just split up from Dean and Charlie, eyes tearing apart the shadows in the room for the witch. Sam lifted the cabinet off of you and gave you a gentle shake, trying to rouse your consciousness. "Y/N?"

"Is she dead?" Dorothy questioned as she knelt.

Sam pressed two fingers against your neck, locating your steady pulse. "No. Let's get her somewhere safe," he replied before picking you up, cradling your injured temple against his shoulder lightly, blood staining the fabric of his shirt. 

"And where would that be?"

"Dungeon," Sam answered as he carried you out of the kitchen and back to the dungeon, Dorothy covering his six. He pushed the shelf aside with his shoulder and entered, glancing around for a place to set you.

Crowley looked up, eyes immediately widening. "What happened?" His voice came out in a booming order. The panic hit him like a train, making him try to pull himself free from the collar that had been forced back on him. 

“Witch knocked her out,” Sam replied, walking towards a corner.

“What are you doing? Don’t stash her in a corner!” Crowley spat, outraged at Sam’s decision to put you so far away.

“Where else do I put her, Crowley?”

“Put her over here,” Crowley replied, motioning in front of him.

“Excuse me?”

“Move the table and put her near me, Moose. If the witch comes back at least she’ll be near me and not alone in the corner of the room,” Crowley aggressively reasoned.

“No way,” Sam scoffed, holding you closer protectively.

“Who do you trust more? Me or the witch?”

After a moment, Sam growled beneath his breath and stalked towards Crowley, kicking the table away. “I don’t trust you at all. If you do anything to hurt her, I will end you,” Sam hissed in Crowley’s face, towering over the demon in a threatening manner.

“No!” Dean’s shout came from somewhere nearby.

“I’d take that if I were you,” Crowley told Sam calmly.

Sam settled you against Crowley’s legs, keeping you propped up. After giving Crowley a warning glare, he left hurriedly.

Crowley glanced down and sighed heavily, reaching down to press a gentle hand against the bleeding gash on your temple. “Y/N?” he murmured quietly, his thumb stroking your cheek gently. 

You stirred a bit, your consciousness fading in and out. A familiar voice broke through the dark haze, making you push a little harder to come around. Grey scenery blurred in front of your eyes, your focus hindering. 

“Come on, love. Wake up.”

You blinked a few times, sharpening the images in front of your eyes. A deep throbbing rumbled throughout your head, but you ignored it as you gazed up, your eyes locking on to his. “Hm? Crowley?” You could’ve sworn you had just left the dungeon. Memories crashed in your mind instantly, sending a ripple of pain through you, forcing your eyes to close. “Ouch … Ow,” you whimpered, fighting off the sudden agony. 

Crowley reached down as much as he could and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you closer between his legs, settling your back against one of his legs. “Tough it out, little hunter,” Crowley purred, gently running his fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your wound. 

You gritted your teeth, reducing your crying to faint grunts. “Gotta find the witch,” you murmured through a clenched jaw, your hands clutching onto his pants to try to get some leverage to force yourself up.

“No, no, sit. Y/N. Sit,” Crowley eventually had to play his ruler card, ordering you to remain still.

You sighed in defeat and rested against him, placing your cheek against his thigh as you breathed slowly and deeply through the pain. Wow, what a mess. One blow and you were out. You buried your face against his leg, trying to hide from your own disappointment. You were better than that. 

Crowley sensed your inner tension and caressed the back of your head. “Moose and Squirrel will handle her. You can’t win every fight. Trust me on that,” Crowley told you, the last line dropping in volume. 

You frowned and looked up at him, hearing the disappointment in his tone. “Maybe you shouldn’t have anymore human blood,” you suggested.

“I shouldn’t. I have a kingdom. I shouldn’t be getting attached … to anything,” Crowley murmured, eyes distant. He knew he was basically screwing himself. Wanting your blood … wanting you was toxic. 

“I’m feeling better,” you assured him before pushing yourself to your feet. Nausea coursed through you, but you forced it back and stumbled towards the exit, your mind a jumbled mess. You worried for the boys and Charlie, you wanted Crowley to figure himself out, and you needed to figure yourself out, as well. Was it worth it with Crowley? He was unstable and unpredictable, but sometimes you liked a little surprise in your life. 

“Y/N, I just don’t want you caught up in this. No one needs to be caught up in this,” Crowley tried to reason with you from his chair. 

“Figure it out, Crowley. Human or demon. You can’t be both,” you replied before moving into the corridor, your eyes glancing up and down it for any sign of the boys or Charlie. 

Crowley stared at the empty space for some minutes, thinking about your words. He had to choose. Did he return to what was familiar or forge a new path? Whatever he chose, some things were going to have to change. This sickness he was suffering from had opened his eyes to a few things. One thing he had learned was attachment was dangerous, for him and the other. He had to push away what his heart wanted to pull in. The new emotions didn’t appreciate that very much and it pained him. He wanted to get rid of that pain, but he also wanted to keep the feeling of bonding with someone. Right now, he couldn’t figure out which was more important. Maybe he never would. 

By the time you found your friends, the battle was over with, and Charlie and Dorothy were gone. The boys already cleaned up shop, leaving you to return to your room under their orders. You moved into the bathroom and began patching yourself up, your eyes flickering to the mirror every so often. Crowley struggled between being a demon and a human, or feeling like a human. What was so great about being a demon? What features were worth fighting so hard for? You stopped your movements and stared at yourself for a moment, picturing yourself with black eyes. How different would you be? 

“Night, Y/N!” Sam’s call came from outside the room.

“Night!” you replied, leaving your thoughts behind. You, a demon? Putting them down appealed to you too much. It gave you this feeling of sheer power, and that was something you had always lacked. However, there was Crowley. He was power all on his own. Maybe that was why you were so drawn to him? You scoffed at the terrible thought and left your conflicts for the next day. Maybe things would clear up. Maybe you and Crowley could find a balance, if one was possible to reach.


	7. Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you tons to those who read!  
> Warning: Sexual Content

“Alright, we’ll lock up. Rest, okay?” Sam instructed you from the door of your room.

“Yeah, yeah. You two be careful,” you replied from your bed, your eyes still heavy from sleep. It was the following day and the boys already caught wind of a case. Due to your injury, they insisted that you stay at the Bunker, leaving you alone with Crowley once again.

“See ya, sweetheart,” Dean called as he strode towards the exit, bag clutched in his hand.

Once the boys left, you swung your legs out of bed and walked slowly towards the kitchen, your head throbbing slightly. “Damn witch,” you cursed beneath your breath as you hobbled over to the coffee maker. You needed to get yourself back into the game, but a certain someone had been distracting you over the course of the past few weeks. Your eyes flickered towards the dungeon, curiosity setting in. You would visit him after coffee. Coffee always came first.

Despite the quiet nature of the Bunker, you felt no peace. Tension rumbled in the air. You sighed into your mug, knee bouncing in anticipation. You didn’t even know what you were going to say. Though, surprise was always possible with Crowley around. “Okay, okay,” you muttered, giving into yourself. You took one more deep sip before setting your mug down and padding towards the dungeon, your heart rate increasing by the step. Your hand nudged the barrier open, one eye peering through the gap to see Crowley glancing curiously at you.

Crowley’s lips curled into a small smile, amused at your hesitance. “Morning, love,” he spoke to you softly, coaxing you in with his voice.

You entered at a normal pace, his good mood brightening your own. “Sleep well?” you joked as you took a step forward, hands together behind your back.

Crowley smirked and shook his head. “Funny. Where’s Moose and Squirrel?”

“Gone. They found a case.”

“You didn’t join them?” Crowley questioned.

You shook your head and pointed to the white patch covering the wound on your head.

“Aw, poor little lamb,” Crowley cooed, his words a bit grating.

No wonder. His “good mood” consisted mainly of his sarcasm. You narrowed your eyes at his remark and crossed your arms. “Poor little lamb that could kick your ass,” you retorted, plainly challenging him.

“Because I’m bound? Oh, you’re so tough. Strike me while I’m down, why don’t you?” Crowley scoffed, his attitude broadening.

You glared at him for a second before sitting down on the edge of the table in front of him. "How're you feeling, Crowley?" You dealt the faint low blow, testing him.

Crowley met your eyes and put on a smirk, his arms resting comfortably on the table top. "Grand," he replied, a bit of spice in his tone.

You smirked right back, seeing beneath his cover-up. "You sure, Crowley? You sure you don't have an itch you want to scratch?" You openly teased as you leaned towards him over the top of the table.

Crowley kept his eyes trained on you, his tongue lashing out quickly to dampen his lips. The closer you came to him, the more adrenaline rushed through him. Being in close proximity with you was dangerous for him. He just couldn't get a firm grip on himself.

His lack of response encouraged you to torment him further, trying to crack through that barrier he had forged. "What's the matter, Crowley? Cat got your-"

In that instant, Crowley cut your sentence off with a tender kiss, his lips forcing themselves onto yours, chained hands grasping the sides of your face firmly. Your startled moan urged him on, his lips gently gliding along yours as you leaned into him without even realizing it.

You crept up onto the table slowly, edging more and more towards him. Not a single thought in the universe told you to pull away. Something about his gentle, but firm touch made you feel right at home. No one had touched you this way before.  

Crowley trailed one hand into your hair as he stood, twisting his fingers through the soft strands. His teeth pulled at your bottom lip, making color pop in the tissue. "Get over here."

His breathy growl made you automatically move to the front of the table, your thighs resting on the edge as you faced him. You could feel yourself quiver in anticipation, your heart racing.

Crowley ran his hands up your legs, his fingernails gliding over your skin. It had been far too long since he had touched you, dominated you in ways only he could. The addiction was kicking back in, but it wasn't your blood he was solely after. It was just you, in general. Your taste, your scent, your voice played with his reborn emotions, sending him into a physical and mental frenzy that only you could satisfy. You had him in the palm of your hand, but he would always be quick to remind you, and everyone else, of his position of power. "Collar," he ordered.

Your hand fumbled through your pocket for the key, all sense thrown out as his strong hands squeezed your thighs. You yanked the key from the fabric confines and worked it inside the lock, making the strong metal loosen around the demon's neck.

Crowley wrenched it off and then pushed you down on the table, stepping between your thighs and pinning you down as his lips bruised your neck. He breathed sharply against your skin, his hands moving slowly up your torso. "Good girl," he groaned.

You gripped his shoulders as he moved his way up, your hands pressing into the strong build. You felt a gust of air trail along your body as your shirt was swiftly removed, your shoulder blades resting heavily against the table top. "Bad boy," you smirked back, glancing down at him as he left quick kisses up your stomach.

Crowley paused and met your eyes, expression full of deviousness. "Darling, you have no idea."

A heartbeat passed before you cupped his face and brought his lips roughly to yours, fingers curling into the thickness of his facial hair. You moaned softly into the kiss, enjoying the heat and the pressure he provided. Extra pressure was forming between your legs as he rested his hips against yours, his arousal heavy and hard. A breathless curse left you, heat coursing through you.

Crowley chuckled before breaking from the kiss, lust strong in his gaze. He could feel the want pounding through his body, powering him towards a mental and physical paradise. His hands looped over your head and then pushed beneath you, his fingers undoing the strap of your bra achingly slow, his eyes resting on yours, a sensual look being shared.

You dug your heels into the backs of his legs impatiently, urging him to speed up the foreplay, but he wasn’t having it.

“You’ll wait as long as I make you, sweetheart,” Crowley purred to you, a devilish smile creeping onto his face as he felt you struggle against your own arousal beneath him. He finally pulled the material from your upper body and placed it elsewhere before leaning down to press his face against your breasts, hands gripping your sides as he breathed teasingly against your skin, his beard rubbing red marks on your chest.

An irritated whine broke free from you, your hands grabbing hold of his upper arms. “Santa Claus is going to bust his jolly ass through the door before you do anything,” you growled at him, eyes narrowed.

Crowley couldn’t help but chuckle at your frustration, his smile bright and genuine. The darkness in his eyes faded for a moment, a pure light breaking through briefly as a strong jolt of joy went through him. His laughter eventually died, the heat of reality swallowing him again. His face hardened as he adopted his authoritative tone. “Hush, darling,” he scolded you lightly before pressing delicate kisses around your chest area, causing your back to arch up towards him. He parted his lips and took in one nipple, lavishing it with his tongue before briefly sucking, teeth backing up the action. He pulled gently at the hardened bud before releasing and moving to the next, enjoying the feel of your chest rumbling with quiet moans. “Love when you purr, kitten,” he murmured to you as he kissed your lower stomach softly.

You smirked at his comment, a warm buzz vibrating through your body. “Oh, yeah?” you replied, your eyes moving to his as his hands traced the waist of your pants.

“How loud can you purr?” Crowley asked, tugging the fabric off of your waist and down to your thighs.

“Depends on how well you fuck me.”

Crowley knelt and freed your legs, tossing the garment over his shoulder. He reached over and gripped your thighs, suddenly pulling you closer to the edge, your legs falling over his shoulders. “Well, let’s begin with this, shall we?” Crowley commented, his fingers dancing over the thin fabric of your panties before hooking his finger in and pulling them to the side, immediately leaning forward to press the warmth of his mouth against your center.

A surprised moan left your lips, your eyes shooting downwards to watch his sensual movements. The small strokes of his tongue made your entire body shudder, pleasure crackling through you rapidly. “Ohh … wow,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering closed as he continued.

Crowley pushed his tongue slowly through your wet folds, stopping at your clit to lap independently at it, his beard scratching at the inside of your thighs as he moved with the delicate rolls of his tongue. His eyes flickered upwards to see you arch on the table, your lips parted in silent euphoria and your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm appeared just on the horizon. He stroked your thighs softly as he suckled your clit into his mouth, taking extra good care of you.

You reached a hand down to caress his head, your hips bucking against him automatically as an intense wave of heat rushed through you. “Crowley … fuck,” you gasped, each stroke of his tongue driving you closer and closer. You pressed your heels into his back, trying to somehow pull him closer, bring him in deeper.

Crowley smiled through his movements, sensing how close you were to breaking. He could tell no one had touched you like this before. No one had performed such an intimate act on you, and, deep down, he knew it was a bit special. Hell, when did he ever treat someone other than himself as good as this? The natural feeling of it all struck him as strange, but he usually had good instincts. He trusted his actions. Sometimes. Crowley broke from you for a second to slip your panties off your hips, fully exposing you to him. He then leaned back in and trailed a hand down to push a finger gently inside of you beneath his tongue, stimulating you even more as he curled his finger to rub against your sweet spot.

You refrained from biting your lip, knowing he would want to hear you. His name flew from your lips multiple times as he amped up the pleasure, making the heat and pressure build faster and faster as he pressed in a second finger. After a few more strong curls of his fingers, you felt everything snap, your composure crumbling as your orgasm rocked through you. It nearly felt like fire roared through your body, and you enjoyed every second of it.

Crowley waited a few seconds after you finished before withdrawing, his movements careful as you came down. He rose to his feet and glanced down, hovering above you. “Well?” he smirked.

“Holy … Hell,” you managed to breath the words out, your body humming with delight. You took a moment to capture your breath before leaning up and pressing your lips to his, feeling the wetness that coated his lips. You parted your lips and pushed your tongue against his, sharing in the aftermath of his experience. Arousal was quick to return with Crowley around. You hooked one arm around his neck to keep you elevated as you reached your other hand down to caress his cock through the black slacks, running your hand along its hardness.

“Ready to go at it again already, kitten?” Crowley murmured against your lips, pressing his hips against your hand, reveling in the pressure.

You nodded, dealing a playful kitten lick up his bottom lip to express your enthusiasm.

“You want this? How bad?” Crowley tormented you further, his hands gripping your waist nearly possessively.

“Very bad. Please, Crowley,” you resorted to pleading, pressing brief pecks against his lips as you whimpered.

“Mm, good, kitten. Do you think about this? Dream about it?” he murmured, one hand drifting over to cup your sex, the pad of his finger pushing teasingly at your entrance.

“You know I do,” you whispered, hinting at that connection the two of you had.

Crowley met your eyes, his snark disappearing. “My thoughts … normally contain you, as well,” Crowley replied softly, his touch seeming gentler. However, the King of Hell does not like to be so emotionally exposed when he isn’t hopped up on human blood. The attitude snapped back in a near instant and the smirk returned. “Well, let’s turn that dream into reality, shall we?”

You’ll talk later. The arousal was impossible to ignore, driving you past the brief moment. You undid his belt and slacks quickly, freeing his pulsing cock. You swiped your thumb over the slit, making him groan quietly. “How do you want me, King?” you purred at him, teasingly running the head of his cock against your slick folds.

“Think I have something in mind,” Crowley answered, eyes slimming in a deviant manner.

“Great. Let’s take these layers off,” you told him as you hopped off the table, your hands reaching for his button down beneath his overcoat, but he grabbed your hands, stopping you quickly.

Crowley shook his head, denying the action. Again, too exposed. Before you could question him, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, putting your thoughts on something else. He gave your bottom lip a playful nip before turning you around and bending you over the surface of the table, his hands running up and down your back, sending shivers along your spine. “Aren’t you just pure perfection?” he breathed mostly to himself as he admired you.

You turned your head and gave your ass a playful shake, inviting him to proceed. “Show me what you got,” you taunted him, shooting a wink his way.

Crowley leaned down and left a few open-mouthed kisses along your shoulders, the head of his cock sliding slowly through your folds. With one firm thrust, he was buried deep inside, his lips parted slightly and his eyes shut in pleasure.

A choked mewl sounded from you as you felt him fill you. You rested on your forearms, steadying yourself as he gently rocked in and out of you, building up your comfort. “Fuck … Crowley … just …,” you gasped the words, trying to motion for him to stop being so subtle.

Crowley took hold of your hips before pushing back in. Hard. The near buckle of your knees encouraged him to carry on, his hands and the table top the only things keeping you standing. “Good enough? Hard enough, love?” Crowley growled in your ear, his chest on your back as he pressed in and out, reaching deeper and hitting harder than the thrust before.

Your arms gave out, resorting to you lying on your stomach, heat growing rapidly there. “Yes … ohh, Crowley,” you moaned your response, his name hot and effortless on your tongue. You turned your head to find his lips, sharing a brief kiss before he thrust back into you, nearly shifting the position of the table. Your legs began to shake, the intensity draining your strength.

Crowley could feel the strain of your muscles struggling to keep you upright. He pulled back briefly, his hands lifting you and turning you to lay on your back, your legs loose around his waist as he drove back into you before you could catch a breath. He gripped your thighs tight, his fingertips sure to be seen as bruises later on. His demonic stamina was hard for you to match, but you were never one to back down from a challenge.

You reached down and grabbed onto one of his hands, feeling his index curl over the top of yours. You could feel the pressure build quickly inside of you, waiting to burst and collapse and break. You gave Crowley a pleading look, words lost to your mind, hoping he would finish you off.

Crowley gave you a smile, a knowing one, like he knew everything he needed to know. He slid one hand across your hip bone, fingers splayed out across your skin. The pad of his thumb settled on your clit, rubbing firm circles that sent jolts of rapture through your body.

“Ohh … ohh … fuck,” you whimpered, feeling your peak come closer and closer. The lights ahead blurred as you screwed your eyes shut, powerful motions rolling through you as you went over the edge, heat absorbing you whole. A few curses left you, mingled with Crowley’s name, and then there was just movement, Crowley rolling his hips against yours, pure pleasure across his face. You felt another flash of heat streak across your cheeks, knowing you were doing this to him. You had to admit it felt pretty damn good. You reached up and pulled him down by the back of his neck, pressing his lips against yours. “ _Come on, baby_ ,” you purred to him, coaxing him to join you in the state of bliss.

Crowley smirked lightly, meeting your eyes as he pushed into you a few more times, his grip becoming firmer on you as he filled you steadily, his forehead heavy on yours.

You held onto him tightly, enjoying his body on yours, even though he didn’t allow you to undress him. You felt him leave small pecks along your jawline as he pulled out gently, his fingers stroking comforting lines along your inner thighs.

A pleased hum rumbled in Crowley’s chest as he rested against you, relishing in the feel of your body beneath his. He wasn’t used to being so intimate, but he felt like he was handling it all fairly well. You weren’t pushing him, pressuring him, which made him feel a bit more secure around you than with other people. “What would Squirrel and Moose do if they found out about this?”

“Kill you and lock me in a room,” you replied in a light laugh. Hell, it might be worse than that. Sam and Dean were protective people, which you had come to appreciate at times and detest at other times. Each year their list of friends, people they could trust, became shorter and shorter. You couldn’t help but wonder what day your name would be off the list. If Sam and Dean found out about this then that might be another way to get your name crossed off.

“When will they return?”

“Soon,” you sighed, knowing you had to get up and make it look like you did something other than have the King of Hell ravish you in the dungeon. You laid there for a moment longer, eyes lazily resting on the ceiling as he nestled his face in the crook of your neck, breathing softly as he came down.

“You should get going. Don’t want them to catch you by surprise,” Crowley murmured before stepping away and readying himself to be chained down again.

You felt cold and empty without him there, but he was right. You slid off the table and pulled your clothes on slowly, unwilling to leave him alone in the dungeon. You didn’t want to be without him either. Why leave behind the piece that made you feel complete?

Crowley slumped down into his chair and then pulled the table back into its original position, a thick haze over his eyes. He was obviously just as bothered as you, even if he wouldn’t vocally admit it.

You locked the collar back around his neck and gave him a gentle look before walking out, key twirling between your fingers. You hoped for Sam and Dean to be gone again so that you could visit Crowley more like before. The door opening and closing snapped you from your thoughts, forcing your attention to the stairwell. Sam and Dean weren’t due now. They would’ve called. You ducked into your room, eyes locating your handgun on your dresser. You weren’t too hot on guns, but emergencies happened. You padded to the door and poked your head out, gun held firmly in your hands near your side. Your eyes caught on to a figure stumbling down the steps, a heavy bag weighing down his shoulders. You huffed and exited, letting your heartbeat slow. “Kevin! I could’ve shot you! Knock next time,” you lightly scolded him as you approached, tossing the weapon onto the research table.

Kevin seemed too exhausted to care. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you before collapsing in a chair, dark crescent hues beneath his eyes.

“What do the boys have you translating now?” you asked as you pulled up a chair next to him. It had been some time since you had seen the prophet. Last time he had been hard at work for the Winchesters. Looked like nothing had really changed. He just seemed more tired.

“Angel tablet,” Kevin replied, beginning to reach into his bag to start working once again.

“No, no. Go shower or sleep or something. You look beat,” you told him, snatching his bag from him before he could protest. He probably didn’t have the strength to anyway.

Kevin gave you a thankful look before heading to the bathroom, steps slow and aching.

You set his bag on the table and then relaxed back into the chair with a sigh, your head aching slightly. Rough sex and a head wound didn’t go very well together, but your body was still singing from the pleasure. A smile tugged at your lips, the memory running through your mind. You didn’t even know Crowley that well, but the comfort you felt around him made you feel like you had known him for years. You experienced a decade in a look, a century in a smile, and eternity in a single touch.


	8. Family Comes First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Thank you to those who read, left kudos, and commented!

“I can’t believe Dean left us to do all this research by ourselves,” you muttered, your eyes peering over the heavy book in your hands. You, Sam, and Kevin were researching through twenty-four volumes of _Zimmerman's Encyclopedia of Extinct Languages_ for any information on Elamite, which was proving to be impossible to find. Castiel had called Dean concerning a case, and Dean was gone in the next five minutes, using it as an excuse to bail on research.

“It’s Dean. What’d you expect?” Sam replied, a smirk playing out on his lips as he rested his eyes for a moment. His phone began to ring, drawing his attention away.

You decided to take a quick break while he took the call. With a groan, you unfolded your legs and stepped out of the chair you had curled up in, your muscles a bit cramped from sitting there for so long. You took to the kitchen to fetch a drink, a slight headache tampering with your focus. However, you wanted to get this done so that you could help send the angels back to Heaven where they belonged. Once you returned, refreshed, you noticed Sam grabbing a few of the papers and standing like he had somewhere else to be. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to see if Crowley can read it,” Sam replied, obviously not too excited about being in the same space with the snarky demon.

“Want me to come?” you automatically volunteered.

“I can handle it. Just keep helping Kevin,” Sam told you before walking towards the dungeon, leaving you nearly pouting on the spot.

Oh, well. Maybe you could see him later. You sat back down and opened another book up, your eyes scanning the page for the word “Elamite.” This was pure torture.

Only a few minutes later, Sam stormed back in, an irritated look on his face. He tossed the papers back on the table and then slumped in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Well, obviously that didn’t work. “He can’t read it?” you questioned him.

“He can read it, but he won’t,” Sam muttered, already fed up with being even remotely close to Crowley’s presence.

A small smirk tried to tug at your lips, but you concealed it by raising your book up over your face. He was _so_ bad. “Maybe try again in a few minutes?” you suggested, lowering the book to peer over the top.

Sam nodded, hands brushing his hair back from his face. He honestly didn’t want to deal with Crowley anymore, but he was your best shot so far.

You excused yourself, knowing you had to somehow convince Crowley to help you out. You tossed the book up onto the table and walked off, acting like you were heading to your room. When you were out of sight, you headed the other way towards the dungeon, eyes flickering about as you snuck inside.

Crowley beamed at you, obviously amused with himself for pissing Sam off. “Hello, darling,” he greeted you, a smirk crossing his face.

You moved the shelves back to close yourself inside, a smile appearing on your face. “Why do you have to antagonize Sam?” you asked as you approached him, your voice quiet incase anyone was nearby.

“Oh, come on, darling, you know it’s fun,” Crowley chuckled in response, eyes glistening with amusement.

You allowed yourself a small laugh, giving him a short nod. “Crowley, we really need help,” you told him as you perched on the corner of the table.

Crowley crooked an eyebrow up, his expression still as he gazed at you, judging just how deep your necessity of his help was. “How bad?”

Of course, he would mess with you, as well. However, unlike Sam, you were willing to play along with Crowley’s game. “Really bad,” you murmured quietly, stretching a hand out to gently caress his knuckles. Your fingers danced along his skin, faint and teasing.

“Are you willing to beg?” Crowley responded, a wicked grin on his face.

You shot him an annoyed look, uninterested in pleading. “Crowley,” you growled your warning. This wasn’t the best part of the game, but it definitely was one of Crowley’s favorite parts.

“Guess you don’t need the translations,” Crowley sighed, giving you a shrug. He looked off, a smile threatening to appear on his lips as he noted your frustration.

A scowl crossed your face before you reached out and took his face in your hands, roughly pulling his lips to yours. You quieted his surprised groan, mouth parting slightly to tease his tongue with yours. You could feel the intensity building just from the gentle touches, but you knew you had work left to do. “Please … help … me,” you breathed between pecks, your fingers stroking his face softly.

Crowley sighed softly, knowing he was at a loss. He leaned in more, melding his lips with yours in a final kiss before pulling away. “Fine. Bring me the translations, darling,” he told you as he rested back into his chair, chains lightly rattling as he moved.

You smiled and pressed a quick peck to his lips in gratitude. He could be a good person if he really tried, and you felt like he knew that deep down. You strode back to the main research room, trying to keep the guilty look off your face.

Sam glanced up from one of the books, confusion in his expression. “Hey, where’d you go?” he asked, noting your slightly extended absence.

“My room. Sorry, headache, needed to lay down for a minute,” you lied, an apologetic smile on your face. Crowley’s help would make up for your lying.

“Need a Tylenol?” Sam offered, beginning to rise from his seat to fetch the bottle.

“Nah, I’m fine. What’s our plan of action now?” you asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him.

Sam settled back into his chair and sighed, shrugging hopelessly. “The only thing I can think of is to try to get Crowley to help us,” Sam responded.    

“Wouldn’t hurt to try one more time, right?” you nudged him in the right direction, hoping he would take the bait and go see Crowley.

“I guess. I’ll be right back,” Sam muttered as he stood, gathering the translations in his hands.

Right when he exited, a devious smile crossed your face, a little proud at your efforts. Sometimes you had to admit that you were pretty slick when you wanted to be. However, if Crowley backed out on his deal, which you highly doubted he would, he would definitely be sorry.

A few minutes later, Sam walked back in, huffing as he faced conflict. He motioned for you and Kevin to follow him into a room near the dungeon, a frown set on his face. “Crowley wants a phone call in exchange for reading the translations,” he told the two of you.

“Phone call? To who?” you questioned. You knew Crowley didn’t have many friends, sad as that sounded. Who would he be trying to communicate with?

“Abaddon,” Sam replied, eyes narrowing in his own confusion.

“Seriously? You want to let Crowley communicate with Abaddon? A king and a power-mad knight of hell isn't enough for you? You want to throw a demonic team-up into the mix?” Kevin argued.

As they went back and forth, you entered a mental conflict of your own. Abaddon? Chatting with a worst enemy just sounded strange. You had bitter feelings towards Abaddon anyway for throwing you through a window.

“Let’s get him to read these ingredients before handing him the actual translations,” Sam suggested, aware of Kevin’s unease around Crowley. At Kevin’s reluctant approval, the three of you entered the dungeon.

Crowley appeared relaxed, obviously expecting the visit. His eyes flickered to yours briefly, a smirk teasing at his lips. The thrill of the secrets you two shared nearly gave him chills. Sure, he had kept secrets from the Winchesters before, but the secret of becoming acquainted with you nearly right under their noses really got him. Sam slapping a paper down on the desk jarred him from his thoughts, a confused look crossing his face.

“What are these?” Sam ordered Crowley, the question loud and bold. He was trying to be intimidating, no doubt, but Crowley couldn’t take the younger Winchester seriously.

“Ingredients,” Crowley replied evenly.

You bit your lip as they continued to quarrel, a silent laugh shaking your body. This was too funny. Crowley really knew how to get under a person’s skin. You should probably get a few pointers from him later.

“I want my phone call. You'll get the rest when I get paid. Now. Who's gonna be a dear and open up a vein? Crowley murmured, a smile playing out on his lips as he put the younger brother in a corner.

Sam’s hands flexed into tight fists, itching to subdue Crowley’s ego. However, he needed the translations and Crowley’s knowledge. With an agitated scowl, he left for the medical supplies, Kevin on his heels.

Crowley turned to you with a chuckle. “I could poke at him for eternity,” he told you, chest rumbling with amusement.

“Oh, I know,” you replied in a small laugh, bounding over to him while you had a few minutes.

“Mm … the things I could do to you in an eternity,” Crowley switched gears, his charm coming full force. He placed one hand on your hip, drawing you close to his side, head tilted up to gaze at you.

“Oh, yeah? What kind of things?” you purred, hand gliding over the firmness of his shoulder.

“Whatever I want. Whatever you want,” he murmured, his hand moving around to affectionately grip your ass, giving off a dominant vibe. “I’d make you feel things you’ve never felt before,” the statement nearly came out in a whisper, his focus blowing up for a few heartbeats. Thoughts as deep as galaxies occupied his mind, shining and new. The past reality he had been living in had been pushing and shoving at his mind for days, desperate to capture his focus, but the reality that he shared with you stayed at the center of his thoughts.

New emotions really had become a trend with you lately, and it was all because of Crowley. “I’m looking forward to that,” you replied quietly, a small smile on your face.

Crowley returned the smile, silently agreeing. He felt your fingers brush lightly through his beard and over the softness of his lips, causing him to give you a suggestive look. He moved his other hand forward to grip the front of your jeans, pulling them down slightly to expose the skin of your lower waist. Right as the air brushed against the sensitive area, he pressed a bold, open-mouthed kiss to the space.

A surprised gasp left your lips, his touch shooting shocks of heat through your entire body. “Fuck, you tease,” you cursed beneath your breath, sexual frustration evident in your pouty look.

Crowley smirked, dealing a light slap to your ass. “Watch that mouth,” he teased, the words deep and rough like a growl.

If you hadn’t heard Sam’s heavy footsteps approaching you might’ve jumped Crowley’s bones at that second. You moved away quickly, his touch a burning sensation upon your skin and mind. This was a bad time to feel hot and restless.

Sam placed the medical kit on the table, preparing to draw blood from himself for Crowley’s cause.

Crowley took note of this and nearly jumped out of his chair in protest. “Ah! No, no, no,” Crowley opposed.

“What?” Sam questioned, pulling the syringe back from his arm.

“Not yours. Hers,” Crowley replied, nodding in your direction.

Coldness shot through you, panic rising. What was he doing?

“What difference does it make?”

“I've had yours. Stuck in here, you can't fault me for wanting a little variety,” Crowley shot back.

It was a nice save, but Crowley putting you in the spotlight for any reason made you anxious around the Winchesters. You couldn’t risk them finding out that you and Crowley had grown closer than just the expected guard-prisoner relationship.

“No, Crowley,” Sam immediately defended you.

“It’s fine, Sam. Let’s just get this over with so we can get the translations,” you sighed, taking the syringe from his hand. You steadied yourself and took a breath before pressing the needle into your arm, your eyes shutting tightly as you extracted a tube full of blood. A few more tubes followed, which left you a bit lightheaded, but you managed. Besides, you were curious about this call.

Once the bowl was prepared, Crowley leaned close, his concentration sharp. “ _Inferni sectatores, nunc audite regem_.”

Okay, you had to admit Crowley speaking in Latin was pretty attractive. Maybe you could get him to talk dirty to you in Latin. A weak chuckle rumbled in your chest at your own thoughts, slight dizziness overtaking you for a few moments. A faint buzzing sensation appeared in your back pocket, capturing your attention. You retrieved your phone, eyes brushing over the caller’s name for a second before you inwardly groaned. “I have to take this,” you murmured to Sam as you made your way out of the dungeon, a frown growing on your face. “Hello,” you spoke into the phone, your tone even.

A rough male voice replied on the other end, agitation strong in his tone. “I don’t know where the hell you’ve been, but we need you back here to help us with a case.”

Your eyes shut briefly as you tried to contain yourself. Of course, your help was needed now. “I don’t understand why you need _my_ help. You have plenty of helping hands,” you nearly hissed your reply, eyes narrowed.

“Don’t argue, Y/N. If your family needs help, you help them!” your father growled back.

Ah, the family card. He _would_ play that to try to get you to succumb. “You’ve never needed my help for anything before, and now you decide I’m useful to you?” you snapped, years of childhood neglect burning in your throat.

“Don’t make this about you. We need all the help we can get on this case. So, come help us, or I’m coming to fetch you personally.”

You didn’t need that. If he tried hard enough, he would find you, and you would be in huge trouble, especially since you were with the Winchesters. All you had to do was help them finish this case, and then you were off the hook again. “Fine. I’m coming home.”

~*~

Nearly an hour later, the silence and privacy of the dungeon was taken advantage of. Anger settled deep in Crowley’s mind at Abaddon’s words. He wasn’t done. Not yet. However, since he wasn’t going anywhere for awhile he might as well provide his own entertainment. The syringe of blood he had stealthily snatched from the tray rested in his lap, cloaked by his jacket. A rush, a distraction, was needed. You hadn’t come back since you left to take the call, which made him a bit anxious. Anxiety and anger wasn’t a good mixture. Without another thought, he grabbed the syringe and forced the needle into his arm, pumping the effects of a mental joyride into his system. Unaware that he was being watched, he placed the empty syringe back on the table and then settled back into his chair, a pleased sigh escaping his lips.

Sam frowned in confusion, not completely understanding Crowley’s intention. However, loud sounds brought him back into the main research room, where you were lugging your stuff towards the staircase. “Woah, where are you going, Y/N?”

You stopped in your steps reluctantly, hoping to leave without having to say goodbye. “I have to go for a little while. There’s just something I have to take care of,” you told him, forcing a small smile onto your face.

“Oh, you can’t wait until Dean gets back?” Sam asked as he approached.

You shook your head immediately, starting to shuffle towards the steps again. You didn’t even have time to say goodbye to Crowley. You choked down your sadness and moved forward to embrace the younger brother, promising him that you would return soon. Though, you weren’t sure how long you would be away. “Stay out of trouble,” you called once you reached the top.

“You too,” Sam replied, an amused look on his face.

Oh, you would try. If your family demanded blood, they would get it.  


	9. Relapse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been quite awhile since I've updated (curse you, school), but here's the next chapter! Thank you so so much for the kudos and comments! Hope you enjoy :)

There was a harsh pounding sound in your head, and you couldn’t shake it. Anxiety, that red rush, pulsed through you, making your chest heave as you pressed your back against the brick wall of a building, trying to spare yourself for a single moment in the hunt’s craziness. For more weeks than you can even remember, you had been forcefully invested in a hunting spree with your family. Claiming they couldn’t handle the arising problems on their own, they dragged you back into the storm, forcing you to drop everything. Including any contact with Crowley. 

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

You stiffened at the low voice, blood freezing over instantly. How did he find you? A demon had been causing trouble in a small town, and you and your family, well, mostly you, had taken to the streets to surround and exorcise him. Unfortunately, you weren’t blessed with a demon-killing knife. And, unfortunately, the demon had happened to seek you out. However, over the past weeks or so you had learned that a bow and a holster full of arrows helped you go a long way when it came to facing demons. Only iron arrows coated with salt, though. The Winchesters didn’t spare a detail about Bobby’s tips and tricks.

“Are you scared, sweetheart?”

The purr made you narrow your eyes, your determination spiking. Carefully, you notched an arrow, your hands positioning themselves automatically as you watched the ends of the alley you hid in. With silent steps, you edged towards one end, taking a wild guess at which end he was at. There was a lot of guessing involved in this whole hunting game.

“Gotcha,” the hiss, quick and sharp, was followed by a harsh blow to the back of your head, sending you tumbling onto the sidewalk, a shocked gasp rattling your body. Black Eyes hovered above you, a triumphant smirk adorning his face. “Aw, look at you. So weak,” he growled, accenting his words with a swift kick to your side. “So helpless.” Another breath-taking kick.

A broken groan left you, one arm cradling your injured torso as you rested on the concrete, defiant eyes glaring up at him. “Don’t underestimate me,” you murmured, a sharpness in your tone.

Black Eyes chuckled in amusement as he crouched next to you, his head tilting mockingly. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Listen, before I break that pretty face of yours, I want to thank you.”

“Thank me?” you questioned, eyes narrowing.

“Rumors have been spreading lately. Rumors about Crowley. Rumors about you,” Black Eyes replied, a smile tugging at the side of his mouth.

The color drained from your face, expressing your shock, your nervousness. So much happened with Crowley in that short time you spent together, and all that happened could put the both of you at risk. You concealed your anxiety and lifted your chin in a challenging manner. “What’s the talk?”

“Well, evidently, when Crowley was M.I.A. he was being held hostage by you. You broke his spirit, sent him spiraling, and, now, Abaddon is in her rightful place as the true ruler of Hell.”

Broke his spirit? Spiraling? What did you miss? You lowered your eyes momentarily, swallowing down the shock, bottling it up for later. If you wanted to help Crowley, you first had to get out of the current situation. You had landed on your bow when you fell, which put the arrow right next to your hand. A breath was inhaled, and then you jabbed the iron tip into the demon’s neck, a short burst of blood spraying onto your face. The same breath was exhaled, and then you were up on your feet, already slamming a hand down against the back of his head, sending him sprawling across the ground.

Black Eyes gripped at the arrow embedded in his neck, the pain making his body seize slightly. Blood crept along his fingers, tainting his fingertips.

You yanked his head back by the short strands of his hair, a dark look haunting your expression. “This is for Crowley,” you growled, eyes growing just as dark as his. “ _ Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas _ ,” you reeled off, words flowing from your memory to create another.

After a chorus of scattered screams and curses, the wretched soul was shipped back to Hell, only to a hint of your satisfaction. You wanted him dead, but you did all you could do. Now, you faced an even bigger problem. Your family. You gave one of your older brothers a call, letting him know you took care of the problem and that you needed to talk. Immediately. Crowley had ranked himself fairly high on your priorities list. With a sigh, you sat on a curb, knees pressed to your chest, eyes bleak. You missed him, missed his touch, his voice, his way of thinking. Being apart hadn’t done you any good, and it sounded like he wasn’t much better off. You broke it, and now you would fix it.

Once you joined up with your two older brothers, older sister, and father, you then realized you didn’t have an excuse planned. “I have to go check up on my demon lover, who happens to be the King of Hell,” just didn’t seem like it would go down well with the family.

“Spit it out, Y/N, I’m not going to freeze my ass off out here if you’re just going to stand there,” your older brother, Elijah, snapped, his hands buried in the deep pockets of his jacket.

“I’m leaving,” you told them in the firmest voice you could muster. Your family was intimidating, to say the least. They were a tough bunch that weren’t afraid to speak their minds and weren’t afraid to shoot first, ask later, or not ask at all.

“And just where are you going to go?” your father pressed, seeming to grow in size.

_ Five thousand fucking miles away from you _ . “I need some time alone to … find myself. I don’t know if I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you sighed out, feeling the usual agitation creep in. You didn’t have a problem with hunting. You just had a problem with them.

Your older sister scoffed, her eyes rolling at your supposedly ridiculous reply. “This is all you have going for you. Hunting is all you are and will be. You’re just going to embarrass us and yourself if you try to be anything better than what you are now.”

You usually could keep a cool head. You could relax, brush off a rude comment, but something about your family just really let them get under your skin. Like they had any room to talk. “You know what, go fuck yourselves. I don’t have to ask permission to live my life,” you told them with a harsh finality in your tone. You spun around and headed for your car, internally fuming at their nerve. You ignored your father’s shouts, your siblings’ insults, and you drove away without looking back. You had a friend in need.

~*~

“So, you have a Knight of Hell-killing tattoo and Crowley is supposed to have found the weapon that you can use to kill Abaddon?” you recapped all of the things the Winchesters had told you on the ride to Crowley’s location. After you ditched your family, you gave them a call and they happened to be passing through the area you were in. After picking you up, they invited you along to go see what kind of situation Crowley had put himself in. Needless to say, you were kind of freaking out. You had missed a lot.

“Sounds about right,” Dean confirmed from the driver’s seat.

“So, where have you been?” Sam questioned.

“Just dealing with some family things,” you muttered, eyes drifting to the window.

“Oh,” Sam replied, the car growing quiet as the tension settled in. There was history between your family and the Winchesters. After a case went downhill, the brief partnership between your family and the Winchesters crumbled. Now, you were banned from giving them a second look. Obviously, you weren’t much for following rules.

“He’s staying here,” Dean’s comment broke through the silence, the car rolling to a stop as you came across the building Crowley had been staying at.

“Well, let’s go,” you urged as you climbed out of the car. You led the brothers to his room, a definite weight growing heavier and heavier within you. You were nervous. Would he hate you for leaving? You wouldn’t blame him, but you couldn’t help but hope that he would forgive you. Without bothering to knock, you pushed into his room, reeling back soon after as the sharp smell of blood engulfed your senses. Your eyes surveyed the room, taking in just what Crowley had been up to. Bodies, pale and dry, covered the floor, hazy eyes staring endlessly at the ceiling. Empty blood bags covered the furniture, crimson drops leaking out to stain the material. “What are you doing, Crowley,” you breathed quietly, managing to trek through the mess to come across a beautiful girl laying near the bedroom. “Angel blade,” you muttered.

“What?” Sam questioned, coming up behind you.

“She was killed by an angel blade. She obviously did something wrong,” you replied, eyes moving up to look at the messy bed, the sheets sprawled out due to heated activity. A flash of jealousy spiked through you, putting a deep frown on your face. So, that’s what he had been up to. You took in a breath and then sighed it out, noting the effect of human blood on Crowley. It did mess him up a little.  _ But still _ . You didn’t screw anyone while being pushed around by your family. Before you could defend or attack him anymore, the front door creaked open. You moved back to the front where the Winchesters were, your breath hitching as you laid eyes on Crowley.

Crowley was holding a paper bag in his hand when he entered, but when he spotted you standing there it soon hit the ground, the shock obviously rendering him motionless.

“Whatcha got there?” Dean asked, reaching down to snatch up the bag.

Crowley was too focused on your presence to be bothered by the intrusion. “Y/N,” he murmured, gazing at you as though you were a ghost. You might as well have been. For all those weeks you had haunted him, prodded his mind, tormented his already twisted soul. You never left his mind. Even the human blood didn’t help break the connection. He was addicted, alright, but you put the pleasure of human blood to shame by a long stretch.

“Blood. So, you’re a junkie now, Crowley?” Sam questioned with a judging tone.

Crowley tore his gaze away from you to glare at the brothers. “What is this, an intervention?”

Dean grabbed Crowley’s jacket and yanked him into a nearby chair, securing one of the demon’s wrists with the demonic handcuffs, rendering him powerless once again. “What’s gotten into you?”

Crowley kept his eyes down, a shaky breath rattling his chest. “I … I was … vulnerable. I told Lola everything and she reported everything back to Abaddon,” he murmured, eyes flickering to the girl near the bedroom.

You really hoped that Crowley hadn’t told Lola  _ everything _ . You crossed your arms, unsure of how to approach this exactly. You needed to talk to him, but the Winchesters were in the way.

“You know what? You’re cut off. Cold turkey,” Dean told Crowley, making the demon’s face drop.

After the Winchesters left to try to track down information at the National Institute of Antiquities, leaving Crowley locked up in the dungeon before departure, you found yourself pacing in the main research room. If you were going to talk to Crowley it had to be now. You strode to the dungeon, a hint of confidence driving you forward. “Crowley, we need to talk.”

Crowley stared at you from the seat, his eyes bleak, his feelings undeniably hurt. “If I … dissatisfied you in any way, why didn’t you just tell me before running off?” he nearly whispered the question, his eyes lowering to the ground.

You approached slowly, trying to find the words to explain. “It wasn’t you that made me leave. My family called, and I went to them. I had to,” you tried to explain, your face twisting with regret. Your family had a hold on you, their hooks digging deep, threatening to rip and tear until there was nothing left. They could really destroy you if they wanted to.

Crowley sighed softly, a faint glimmer shining in his eyes before he blinked it away. “I’m a mess. I don’t deserve－”

Before he could mutter anymore self-degrading words, you took his face in your hands, pressing the softness of your lips against the deep frown that settled on his face. Claiming that you had ached for his touch was a major understatement. The constant anxiety that had nagged you for weeks shattered at the touch, a warm contentment filling you as you felt his hands caress the sides of your face. Your hands moved to push back at his shoulders, making him settle back into the chair as you climbed onto his lap, your chest flush against his. “Don’t say things like that,” you lightly scolded him as you briefly broke from the kiss.

Crowley rested his forehead against yours, lips parted slightly as he savored the sensation he had been deprived of for so long. At your words, he nodded, his expression hardening as he pulled himself together. “I’ve just … missed you,” he confessed, honey-colored eyes blinking slowly as he gazed at you.

You lightly brushed your fingertips along his cheek, enjoying the feel of his skin against yours. “I’ve missed you too. I wanted to find you, Crowley. I really wanted to. My family … they’re a crazy bunch. If they find out about this they’d kill us both,” you muttered, a frown forming on your face.

Crowley frowned at the sight, not liking the effect the thought had on you. He pressed a gentle peck against your lips. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. And whatever we have. Your family is a bunch of hunters, correct?”

You nodded, wishing things were different. Your family was anti-everything except humans.

“Gotta say they’ve put quite a dent in my supply of demons,” Crowley muttered, his hands resting on your hips casually as the two of you relaxed against each other.

“They’re good at what they do.”

“No wonder you were such a thorn in my side when we first met,” Crowley teased you, a smirk adorning his face.

“Yeah, okay. You were the one relentlessly flirting with me the entire time,” you fired back, looping your arms loosely around his neck, closing in the space.

“Looks like it worked.”

“Maybe.”

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up at the comment, an amused smile breaking out on his face. “Oh, really? You think you can resist me, darling?” he purred, a seductive tone accompanying the challenge.

“I  _ know _ I can.” Wow, you were doing some hardcore lying to the King of Hell’s face.

“Okay, Y/N,” he responded with a confirming nod, a devious glint in his eyes.

You thought you were in the clear until you felt his hands move from your waist to your thighs. “What are you doing?” you asked, feeling his fingertips glide along your legs, teasing at your inner thighs.

“Seeing how long it takes until you start begging.”

Cocky, much? But, damn, you loved it. You put on a brave face, but you were melting beneath his touch. You watched him come close and bury his face in your neck, pressing brief pecks to the sensitive area, teasing you in the most effective of ways. “I have pretty good self-control,” you told him, your voice struggling to come out strong as his teeth grazed your skin.

“Mm?” he murmured before trailing open-mouthed kisses along your neck, tongue lavishing the reddened marks he created. He retreated from the task, his hands etching up under your shirt, outlining your bra before his hands pushed underneath, rough hands coming into contact with smooth skin.

Your breath hitched, body automatically leaning into the heat of his palms as he gripped and squeezed, fingertips tracing your hardened nipples. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered under your breath, knowing you were at a loss.

“What was that?” Crowley taunted, giving your nipples a firm pinch.

A broken gasp left your lips, eyes squeezing shut briefly before they opened, full blown from lust. “Maybe I was exaggerating,” you half-confessed, shifting on his lap as heavy arousal pounded through you, heat flushing across your skin.

“Uh huh, really?” Crowley edged you on as he pushed your shirt and bra up, exposing your breasts. He dipped his head to run his tongue teasingly around one nipple, making you arch uncontrollably.

“Yeah, just a little,” you breathed out, reveling in the warmth and wetness that lavished your skin. You felt the firm tug of his teeth, making you grit your teeth to fight off the plead tingling on your lips. The scraping and rubbing motion of his beard against your skin nearly sent you into a frenzy, your hands clinging onto his jacket to keep you grounded.

Crowley hummed against your skin, sucking and biting marks as he continued to drive you to your breaking point. “I think you’re lying, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low, nearly dark. He met your eyes, putting off an intimidating vibe as he stared you down. “Are you lying to me?” he asked, attitude full of authority and power.

You nearly went dizzy from arousal. Adrenaline pumped through you, readying you for what was surely going to come next. You dipped your head almost shyly, fingers dancing along his jacket.

Crowley crooked his finger beneath your chin and lifted your head back up, requiring you to look him in the eyes. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Since the rug had been ripped out from under Crowley’s feet due to the whole blood addiction, he really hadn’t had a chance to enforce his authority on anyone. Having missed his dominant edge, you were more than happy to let him exercise his power on you. “No,  _ sir _ . I lied,” you confessed, watching your tone, displaying your guilt.

“Now, what are we going to do about that?”

“I can make it up to you,” you offered, your lips curling into a small suggestive smile.

Crowley returned the smile, giving you a short nod to allow you to proceed.

You moved to sink to your knees in front of him, but the sound of heavy boots on the staircase made you freeze.

“Bloody Hell,” Crowley growled beneath his breath.

You adjusted yourself as the Winchesters approached the dungeon, a smirk on your face. “Gotta take a rain check,  _ sir _ ,” you taunted him with a wink.

“I’ll hold you to that, pet,” Crowley shot back before the brothers entered, ready for business.

“What do you know about the Men of Letters massacre of 1958?” Sam questioned.

“We know Abaddon missed our grandfather and Larry Ganem. Was there anybody else?” Dean added a heartbeat later.

“You stash me in here and expect me to help you?” Crowley asked, outrage written all over his face.

From behind the Winchesters you gave him a look, a pleading one that begged him to suck it up and help.

“Get me some scotch and I’ll do it,” Crowley muttered to the brothers, arms crossing.

While Crowley and the boys sorted through records and discussed a man called Magnus, you gazed at Crowley from a distance, a small smile on your face. It was nice seeing him sort of back in the game, and it was always nice to see him working with the brothers. If Sam and Dean just gave him a chance like you did they would see the great qualities he possessed. He was better than they took him for. Better than Crowley took himself for.

“Y/N, you coming?” Dean asked as he grabbed his things.

“Where?”

“Crowley’s going to show us where his demons tracked Magnus. Maybe we’ll come across the First Blade,” Dean replied, absentmindedly running his hand across the Mark.

Honestly, the Mark made you a little uneasy. There had to be some sort of catch for so much power. Another problem for another day. “Coming,” you told him, rising from your seat to move to Crowley’s side, sharing a brief glance. There were too many brief moments between the two of you, which weighed on whatever sort of relationship the two of you had, if you could call it that. Was Crowley even the type for all of that? Were you?

Crowley must have noticed your anxiety because a moment later his hand gripped yours, briefly, firmly. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispered to you before following the Winchesters.

You could only hope he was right. If you and Crowley didn’t talk about what exactly was happening, everything the two of you shared could be lost. 


	10. Stay With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait! School, you know? Hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

Fifteen minutes had passed since Sam and Dean disappeared into the mysterious, smoky doorway that supposedly led to Magnus. Fifteen agonizing minutes. If Magnus did have the First Blade, you knew it would probably take a good amount of bargaining to obtain it, but you felt a sense of unease. “Think they’re okay?” You asked Crowley, leaning your back against the Impala’s door. You had been assigned to watch him, to make sure he wasn’t doing anything sneaky. You didn’t argue when appointed to the job.

Even Crowley seemed a bit unsettled. “It’s going to take a lot more than one man to take down your beloved Winchesters,” he assured you, pitching you a small smile as he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, adoring the warmth of his skin against yours. At his comforting words, you felt the tension fade slightly, noting he did have a point. Those boys were tough to take down and even tougher to keep down. “So, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” you murmured, turning on the spot to face him, eyes focusing more on his tie than his eyes.

“What’s on your mind, love?” Crowley encouraged you to speak, his voice gentle and supportive.

“I know we haven’t really known each other for long, but I feel something for you. Something I’ve never felt for anyone else,” you confessed, bringing your worried eyes to his. There was this strange connection between you and Crowley, one that dug deep beyond all boundaries, proving to be absolutely forbidden. It could never be, or could it?

“I feel it, too,” Crowley assured you, his hand gently taking yours, squeezing hope into you. A small smile crossed his face at your words, so glad to be able to match them with his own thoughts. “I know no one would support us if we pursue this, but I honestly couldn’t give a damn. All I know is it’s hard for me to not be around you, to not hear your voice, feel your touch,” Crowley murmured, lifting your hands into view, your hands turning to press your palms flat together, energy seeming to manifest within the simple touch.

“So, what should we do?” You questioned, sifting your fingers between his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. To you, it felt like it was.

“First, I have to take you on a date,” Crowley chuckled, pulling you forward by the hand until you pressed against him, foreheads touching instantly.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your lips, a genuine smile appearing on your face. The King of Hell wanted to take  _ you  _ on a date. “I'd like that very much,” you responded, lifting up on your toes to press a soft kiss to the sweet smile on his face.

At that moment, you heard someone crashing through the woods towards you, wild and panicked. You pulled away from Crowley and yanked the back door of the Impala open, snatching up your bow and one of your silver arrows. There was no telling what was coming for you. You notched and pointed towards the sound, drawing your breath in steadily as you waited.

Sam emerged from the brush, eyes wide in panic. “Magnus has Dean.”

You frowned and lowered your weapon, turning to give Crowley a worried look. “I knew something was off. What do we do, Sam?” You asked as you tossed your weapon into the backseat.

“Break into the house again,” Sam replied as he threw the trunk open, sifting through various items for something that could help. He pulled out a file box and sat in the passenger seat, fingers digging through various files.

You walked over and took half of the files, trying to lighten the workload. You leafed through the pages, eyes skimming across the information until it became so dark that you couldn’t hardly read what was in front of you. Quite some time had passed, and you still came up short.

“Here's something. Apparently, he wanted to make the entire Men of Letters bunker invisible. All physical points of entry were to be eliminated, and entrance would only be gained by spell. Oh, we're gonna need some things. You actually might turn out to be useful, Crowley,” Sam read aloud, some hope returning to his eyes.

“What do I need to fetch, Moose?”

While Sam gave Crowley a list of things to get for the spell, you rummaged through the trunk for a bowl, tossing an immense amount of weapons aside to get to one. By the time you returned to Sam, Crowley was back with a bag gripped in his hand. “That was fast.”

“You won’t be saying that any other time,” Crowley quipped, a coquettish smirk adorning his face.

For Sam, you had to roll your eyes and snatch the bag away, appearing annoyed. Really, you were just trying to hide the blush creeping up on your cheeks. “Okay, let’s get moving,” you told Sam, ready to bust in, save Dean, and find a secluded spot with Crowley later on.

In five minutes, you were walking through the door, Sam leading the way and Crowley close behind you. You padded along the floors lightly, checking around each corner before moving forward.

Sam suddenly stopped and held a finger to his lips, his eyes resting on a man walking down the hallway. “That’s Magnus,” he whispered, watching the man tuck a map away into a drawer. While his back was turned, Sam advanced, placing a knife to his throat. “Take me to my brother.”

You stepped back with Crowley and allowed Sam to take the lead on this one. “That was simple enough,” you murmured to Crowley, standing at his side with your arms crossed.

“Too simple,” Crowley muttered beneath his breath, carefully watching Sam round the corner to head into the room Dean was held in.

“Sam! No!” Dean’s shout came a moment later, full of panic and warning.

You made a move towards the door, but Crowley yanked you back. “What?” You snapped, trying to pull yourself away so that you could help.

“Be smart, Y/N! Don’t go rushing into situations on a whim!” Crowley hissed back, leading you down the hallway the opposite way. While you were briskly walking, his hand slipped down your arm until grasping yours. “Shh,” he whispered, bringing you to a corner, relying on his hearing to place himself right. “In there,” he mouthed to you, motioning to just around the corner.

You crept forward, quickly glancing into the room to see Dean chained up not too far away. “I'm going to get those chains off him,” you whispered to Crowley, reaching into your hair to pluck a bobby pin out. You quietly slipped into the room, motioning for Dean to look away when he saw you so that he didn't give you away. With practiced hands, you worked the ends of the bobby pin into the lock until it clicked, the chains immediately falling to the floor.

Before you could even turn around to aid in the rescue, Dean sliced clean through Magnus’s neck with a very strange looking weapon. It was haunting, appearing to be old and dangerous. The First Blade. “Holy shit,” you found yourself muttering, only then noticing Dean zone out, his eyes turning blank and his arm shaking and glowing with raging power. It took a few panicked shouts from Sam to ground him to reality, making him snap out of the Mark’s deadly trance as the First Blade slipped out of his grasp. At that moment, you knew that Mark would only bring trouble. “Dean, you okay?” You conjured up the nerve to ask.

Dean blinked a few times, trying to shake away the remaining want for violence. “Yeah, I’m good,” he murmured, moving forward to free Sam from the post he was tied to. “Let’s get out of this zoo.”

You shared an uneasy look with Crowley before leading the way out of the house, eager to leave the place behind and innerly wishing the Blade would be left behind, as well. There was something inhumane about Dean’s reaction to it. Truthfully, it scared you. “Oh, fucking hell,” you gasped as the Impala came into view, looking as if someone raided it. “Dean’s going to be pissed,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I’m gonna be what?” Dean asked as he emerged from the woods, completely oblivious to the fact that  _ his _ Baby had been trashed. His eyes moved up to his car, and he  _ freaked _ . “No, no! Come on. What the hell?”

You watched him dart to his car and frantically check it over. “I smell sulfur,” you told them as you approached. “Think it's Abaddon?” You asked, fighting off a worried look for Crowley. Abaddon was one of the stronger players in the game, and with Crowley as her main target, you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous.

“Oh, come on! Oh, now they're keying cars?” Dean’s aggravated shout brought your attention to incomprehensible writing scratched into the door.

“What language is that?” Sam muttered as he knelt to further investigate.

“It's Enochian. The message isn't for you. It's for me. ‘Be afraid. Your Queen.’ Abaddon's getting more brazen. She thinks I'm losing my grip,” Crowley explained, his eyes narrowing at the threat. He'd have to watch himself more carefully, and he'd have to somehow protect you, as well. Abaddon didn't know the two of you were acquainted, so he’d keep it that way.

You heard Sam and Dean muttering under their breaths to each other, something about the First Blade and Crowley. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. You met Crowley’s eyes and then pointedly looked at the boys, trying to be discreet.

“Play along,” Crowley mouthed to you before sending the Winchesters flying against the car, the First Blade slipping from Sam’s grasp.

You followed suit, pretending to be pinned and angered. After all the help Crowley gave, the Winchesters still wanted to gank him? How rude. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. “Yeah, nice going, fellas,” you scoffed at them, ignoring their looks of confusion.

Crowley fought off a smile as he bent down to pick up the Blade, much to Dean’s disapproval. “Now, this is the way it's going to go -- I'll hang on to old donkey teeth here until such time as you locate Abaddon. Then you'll destroy her. You're right, moose. You can't trust me. But, sadly, I can't trust you, either,” Crowley told the boys, his eyes brushing over yours before he left without a trace.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed, pushing himself off his car, his shoulders tense with anger.

“Dean, calm down. We’ll get it back,” Sam attempted to comfort his older brother, knowing the Mark and frustration weren't a good mix.

~*~

The next few days consisted of straight research and bickering between the brothers. You hadn't heard a peep from Crowley, which worried you to an extent. Did Abaddon get to him? You chewed on your bottom lip nervously, your eyes drifting from the page you were attempting to study. Sam had just left the Bunker to pursue a case, but Dean had refused to go, which led to Sam asking you to stay and watch him. You promised to do your best, but with that Mark on his arm, Dean was downright frightening.

You suddenly felt the table shaking, your feet immediately swinging off the top of it in shock. You looked up to see Dean with his eyes screwed shut, his left arm gripping the table and shaking violently. “Dean? Dean!” You tried to reach out to him from across the table, hesitant to approach him.

Dean jerked awake, his breathing weighted as he returned to reality. He shook his head, his hand immediately reaching for his phone and dialing a number.

“Dean?” You murmured, trying again for an actual response.

Dean blinked a few times, his eyes lifting to meet yours. “Sorry,” he told you before hanging up and pocketing his phone. He glanced at the empty bottle of whiskey and then stood, pulling his jacket on. “Come on, Y/N.”

“Woah, hold it. Are you okay?” You asked, standing and moving to the other side to block his way.

“Yeah-Look, I'm fine! I'm just … frustrated, okay? I want to find Abaddon,” Dean replied in an agitated tone. He snatched up his keys and wallet before moving around you towards the exit.

You quietly scowled, knowing there was really nothing else you could do except go with him. “Where are we going?”

“To get a drink.”

~*~

While you were at the bar, you watched Dean closely. You were concerned. Was it going to get any worse? You sighed and bent over the pool table, lining up your shot before letting the end of your pool stick  _ crack _ against the cue ball. A dark shape blurred off in the distance in your vision, capturing your attention. You looked out, seeing Crowley talking to Dean near one of the booths. You felt your heart rate spike, your hands immediately going to your clothes and hair, trying to smooth out wrinkles and tuck in stray strands.

Dean hauled himself from the booth and headed over towards you, Crowley tailing him. “Up for a game?” He asked you.

“Um … yeah. Sure,” you replied, failing to respond in a casual way. “What does he want?”

“Romeo, rang me. So, the real question is what does Dean want?” Crowley smirked, moving behind Dean to flash a smile at you.

You arranged the game while Crowley and Dean went back and forth over Abaddon and the First Blade, quietly listening in as you put the triangle up. “You break,” you told Dean, moving to the side.

Dean lined up his first shot, splitting the group to all sides of the table.

“Just between us girls, how did you feel when you sunk the First Blade into Magnus' head?” Crowley asked, his voice taunting and snide.

You shot Crowley a glare as you moved around the table, eyes looking for a good shot. As you passed him, you swatted at his knee with the end of your pool stick, the action so quick that Dean was oblivious.

Crowley grunted in pain, his eyes narrowing at your behavior. He wanted to retaliate, but that would have to wait.

You and Dean soon abandoned the game in favor of a drink or two, Crowley tagging along and sitting between the two of you. You knocked back your second drink, your face scrunching slightly at the strength of its taste.

“I'm nothing like Cain,” Dean growled at Crowley, attempting to defend himself against the Mark’s fate for him. Truthfully, he could feel himself slipping, fading into darkness, but he would do everything in his power to prove everyone wrong.

You slowly scooted your chair closer to Crowley, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one was paying you any mind. When you felt satisfied, you moved your hand over to rest on Crowley’s thigh, switching his attention from Dean to you in a second.

Crowley looked down at his drink, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at your actions. He quickly directed a questioning look at you, trying to keep Dean in the dark about what was going on beside him.

“I think we’ve talked about the Mark and Abaddon enough today,” you said aloud for Dean to hear, as well. You looked pointedly at Crowley, letting him know you were mainly speaking to him. Dean needed to mentally distance himself from the Mark as much as he possibly could.

“Good point. Hear that, Crowley? Now, shut your pie hole,” Dean muttered before lifting his hand, flagging down the bartender.

Crowley turned his body slightly towards you while Dean ordered himself another drink. “Are you trying to tell me something, darling?”

“Yeah, pay attention to  _ me _ ,” you smirked, pinching his leg before returning your hand to your empty glass.

“I’m just trying not to blow our cover. Don’t want Squirrel finding out about our little rendezvous,” Crowley murmured beneath his breath, a dashing smile crossing his face at the memories you two have shared.

“I know. It’s just been awhile,” you muttered, your lips forming a little pout. You missed being that close to him, being that open with him. You had experienced many restless nights when you were forced to accompany your family.

Crowley bit his lip thoughtfully for a moment, pondering on his options. Most were ridiculous and had a high chance of getting you two caught, but he wanted to catch up on the time you two missed sharing together. Why not start now? “You suddenly don’t feel very well,” he whispered before launching into a one-sided conversation with Dean.

You blinked a few times in confusion, beginning to decipher what the hell that meant. Telling by his tone, it was nearly an order. You weren’t supposed to feel very well. “Dean … I don’t feel very good,” you groaned out, grasping the side of your head as if you were in pain.

“Did you drink too much?” Dean asked, peering past Crowley to look you over.

“Maybe. I’m just going to head back to the Bunker,” you murmured, slowly maneuvering yourself off the bar stool as if the slightest fast movement would send you crumbling to the ground.

“Woah, wait. I’ll come with you,” Dean told you, beginning to take out his wallet to pay.

“No … no, I’m fine. I think I just need some air and silence,” you assured him, stopping him on the spot. You headed towards the door with a small smile tugging at your lips. Now, it was Crowley’s turn to try to get away. You exited and walked a little ways down the road, taking some time to breathe and bask in the silence. There was hardly any peaceful silence when with the Winchesters. There was busy silence when everyone was researching, but it wasn’t relaxing in the least.

“Miss me?”

You stopped and turned at the sound of Crowley’s voice, your eyes rolling playfully. “Maybe. Was he suspicious?” You asked as he moved to your side, his posture relaxed.

“Not in the slightest. Too busy obsessing over the Blade.”

You sighed at the mention of the ancient weapon, a real headache starting to form. “Do you think he’ll return to normal after killing Abaddon?”

Crowley frowned a little, searching for some sort of silver lining in the situation. “There’s just no way to tell right now, sweetheart. The Mark is making him like this, not entirely the want to kill Abaddon. Though, that is adding fuel to the fire.”

You leaned forward and buried your face against his chest, attempting to hide from that very large problem. “Can you take my mind off of all of this?” You murmured against his coat, feeling his hands caress your back.

“Well, it’s too late for a proper date-”

“Bunker? We’ve had some good times there,” you suggested, lifting your head to crook a suggestive eyebrow, a smile on your face gorgeous enough to bring him to his knees.

“Guess it wouldn’t hurt to make another good memory there,” Crowley responded with an agreeing shrug, one arm tightening around you as he lifted his hand to snap his fingers.

The world flicked off and then back on, setting you up just outside the Bunker. “That’s so cool,” you couldn’t help but laugh at the feeling of teleportation. It struck you as incredible. Being human, you missed out on most of those fancy tricks.

“I’ve got plenty of cards up my sleeve. Perks of being a demon,” Crowley commented as he followed you inside.

“I’m sure there are a lot of perks,” you murmured, glancing over your shoulder at him, a curious look on your face. “Do you really like being a demon? Or do you miss being human?”

Crowley narrowed his eyes slightly in thought, pondering on his response. He wanted to be honest with you. “I was a pathetic human. I was almost traded for three pigs by my very own mother, and I sold my soul for three extra inches below the belt. However, becoming a demon gave me a second chance. I was able to make something of myself. Did it take a great amount of torture and pain? Yes, but I’m stronger than my human self could ever imagine.”

Admittedly, your interest peaked. You always had a deep obsession with strength and power, having lacked it nearly all your life. You were just starting to get your footing, taking control of your life day by day, but you were still struggling. You entered the room you had temporarily set up in, quickly kicking personal items under the bed, eliciting a chuckle from Crowley. You turned to face him, emitting a challenging look. “Then show me just how powerful you are.”

Crowley’s hands reached out to touch your waist, his fingers skimming your hips, merely teasing you and making you wait. “Sure you can handle it?”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” You responded cockily, grasping the lapels of his coat firmly, making him step closer.

“Oh, someone’s confident. I’m going to turn you into a quivering mess, darling,” Crowley purred, steadily crushing the space between your bodies. He leaned forward to press a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tightly, nearly possessively.

You kneaded his coat desperately, trying to get him to make a move and stop tiptoeing around you. You felt his chest rumble with laughter, obviously enjoying his game. You scoffed, shoving him backwards lightly. Two could play at that game. You put your back to him and crawled slowly onto your bed, making sure to give your hips a sensual sway. You sat back among your pillows and smirked at him, your hands teasingly running along your thighs, up your sides. You watched Crowley attempt to approach the bed, but you put a quick stop to that. “Don’t you dare,” you warned him, narrowing your eyes at him, forcing him to stop and watch.

“Mind if I pull up a chair?” Crowley asked snidely, deciding to play along.

“Go ahead,” you responded, running a gentle hand through your hair to push it away from your face. As he settled himself in a chair, you focused on yourself instead of your audience, brushing your fingers over the swell of your breasts, shivering at the feather-light friction. You should’ve been nervous, but, instead, you felt  _ powerful _ . You leaned up and slipped your shirt up over your head, tossing it his way with a playful wink. Once you settled back, you curved your hands over your breasts, only giving light squeezes. You were fairly certain he was going to do most of the work soon by the way he was eyeing you.

“This is cruel, you know?” Crowley commented, his knuckles nearly white as he forced himself to stay seated.

“Yeah, it sucks when you’re teased, huh?” You taunted, dragging one hand down your stomach to dip under the waist of your jeans, brushing your fingers over the smooth cloth of your panties. You heard him exhale roughly, the arousal starting to affect him. With a smile, you pushed your fingers against your clothed core, a shaky breath leaving your lips. Your heels dug into your mattress, your hips pushing up against your hand as you began working your clit with your fingertips. You could feel his heated gaze on you, mentally ripping the rest of your clothes off.

“How does it feel, love?”

His gruff tone heightened your arousal, his words pitching in, as well. “Feels amazing,” you breathed out, lips shining and red from tongueing them wantonly. You felt the fabric of your panties grow damper, a warm tingling sensation growing deep within you, threatening to explode. Your free hand pushed at your jeans, trying to give yourself more room to work.

“Here, I’ll help,” Crowley offered, snapping his fingers to make your jeans disappear off of your body.

You would have to worry about where the hell your jeans disappeared to later. You turned your head to gaze at him, noting how tense he was just sitting there watching you. “Want to help some more?”

Crowley was hovering over you before you could even finish blinking.  _ Snap _ . Your bra disappeared, giving him the exposure he needed to dip down and lavish one of your nipples with his tongue. He held you down with one hand, keeping your body pinned to the bed so that you couldn’t try for more friction. He sucked your other nipple into his mouth, driving you insane with need. “No one can tease as well as me,” he murmured against your skin, breathing softly against your hardened nipples, making you squirm beneath him.

“You’re bluffing,” you gasped out, lifting your knee to teasingly brush between his legs, catching him off guard.

“Oh, you want to play games with me, kitten? That’s fine. Daddy loves playing games,” he growled into your neck before pressing bruising kisses along your skin, mouth nipping and sucking at the sensitive area.

You could only writhe beneath him, a series of broken, breathless moans leaving you as he called your own bluff. You began tugging off his coat, his jacket, trying to rid him of as much clothing as you could. “Crowley … please … please,” you whimpered, the throbbing arousal nearly paining you.

“Hush, darling. I’ve got you,” Crowley whispered against your skin as he moved down your body, his lips brushing against your hip as his fingers curled under the waist of your panties. Kisses ghosted across each inch of skin he uncovered as he pulled the last piece of clothing off of you. He nosed his way between your legs, rubbing the roughness of his beard against your inner thighs as he pressed a hand against the underside of your knee, pushing your leg up and out of the way. He ran his tongue through your folds, lapping at your arousal with confidence and skill. His lips engulfed your clit, sucking and providing enough friction to make glistening stars briefly burst in front of your eyes.

Your fingers carded through his hair, your thighs quivering as he set to work. “Ohh … fuck … fuck.” You were reduced to gasping single words, your back arching off the bed as his tongue teased at your entrance, giving you the tongue fucking that sent waves of heat rolling through you.

Crowley slipped his finger in beneath his tongue, reaching for that sweet spot that would send you spiraling. His tongue drifted up between your folds to swirl around your clit, his dark eyes watching your reactions from between your legs. He pushed in a second finger, slightly curling them to rub against your spot.

“Fuck, that’s it,” you encouraged him further, your free hand wringing the sheets that you were pinned against. You felt him thrust his fingers inside of you at an effective pace, his tongue working your clit with fervor. A shudder rattled along your spine, your eyes tightly shut as you succumbed to the extreme pleasure he was providing. “I’m gonna-fuck! Crowley ….” His name fell so naturally from your lips, every nerve within you singing as he pushed you over the edge. You felt his hands anchor you down, helping you ride out your high to its extreme. Your breaths were heavy and tired as your eyes opened to meet his, which gleamed with satisfaction.

“Did that make up for the time we spent apart?” Crowley chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh before moving up your body.

“That was definitely a start,” you replied, a smile growing on your face before his lips touched yours. You hummed in delight, locking your arms around his neck as your tongues lazily twined, sharing the taste of desire. You felt his arousal press into your thigh, his energy still at high. You felt a spark of your own energy come back, powering you up for the next step. “Let’s get your clothes off,” you murmured against his lips before sitting up. You removed his tie and unbuttoned his black dress shirt, your fingers aching to touch his soft skin. Once you removed his shirt, you let your hands drift across his chest, feeling his firmness, his strength. You dipped your head to press a soft kiss beneath his collarbone, making his breath hitch slightly.

Crowley cupped your cheek, pulling your mouth to his as your hands ghosted down his torso. His teeth pulled at your bottom lip, eliciting a small moan from you. “Oh, the things I’m going to do to you,” he murmured against your lips, his hands sliding down your back to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him.

You smiled, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you, the filthy words leaving his mouth. “Well, get to it,” you responded, bumping your nose against his playfully before undoing his belt. You threw it off the bed, eager to see the pile of clothes on the floor growing. With quickness, you yanked off the rest of his clothing, your thighs slick with arousal. You lowered yourself, your lips ghosting over his cock, eyes on his.

Crowley let his fingers glide across your shoulder, a plea in the simple action. He ached with arousal, the sight of you driving him crazy. “Come on, kitten. Show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

You lightly ran your tongue along the underside, dipping the tip into his sensitive slit as you passed over the head. You took him in, your hand gripping his thick base as you sucked him. You flattened your tongue against the underside, stroking him as you moved along his length. You felt his fingers drift into your hair, rubbing your head with praise as you worked him towards the edge.

“That’s good, love,” Crowley murmured, his voice a bit raspy. He tilted his head back, lips parting a bit as he succumbed to the pleasure. The arousal pulsing within his head nearly cut every sound out, like the main door opening and closing. “Wait, wait. Did you hear something?” He asked as he pulled you off with a gentle hand against your shoulder.

“Yeah, sounded like the door shutting,” you replied, peering behind him to look at your own door. “Did we lock the door?” You whispered, trying to hear any sign of someone’s presence.

Crowley snapped his fingers, making the lock click. “Now we did.”

You heard boots hitting the floor close by, unmistakably Dean’s heavy steps. “Damn it. I didn’t think he’d be home so soon,” you hissed, beginning to crawl off the bed to retrieve your clothes.

Crowley grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving. “Who says we’re done?” He questioned, a sly smile riding on his lips.

You stifled a laugh, giving your head an amused shake as he laid you down on your side. You felt him lay down behind you, his lips pressing soft pecks against your shoulders, one of his legs slipping between yours, parting them.

Dean knocked on your door lightly. “Y/N, you awake?”

You bit your lip to suppress any sounds, feeling Crowley move a hand down between your legs to feel you. You writhed a bit, his fingers gliding through your wet folds slowly, teasingly.

After a few moments of silence, Dean guessed you had fallen asleep and left to go to his own room.

“Now, we have to be quiet,” Crowley whispered in your ear, his hand retreating from between your legs to rest on your hip, pulling you back as he pressed inside of you. At the beginning of your moan, his other hand slipped under and around your head to press over your mouth, hushing you as he filled you slowly. “Mm … so fucking tight, kitten,” he growled, his forehead pressing to the back of your head.

You rested back against his chest, your breathing shaky as he started to lightly thrust into you, trying not to make too much noise. You felt the hand on your hip move to grab your thigh, propping your leg up slightly to give him more room to move. You muttered obscenities against his hand, your body arching against him, allowing him to drive himself deeper.

“So good, darling. You’re taking my cock so bloody well,” Crowley praised you quietly, his fingertips pressing into your skin hard enough to leave bruises for the next day. He felt you moan your response against his hand, your hips moving back against his. He shoved you back against his cock, thrusting into you harder, your body shaking in response. His head lowered down to your shoulder, his movements growing erratic.

Heat boiled within you, drifting along every inch and crevice of your body as he didn’t hold back. You felt the hand on your leg slip over your waist to rub at your clit, shooting sparks of bliss through you. You tried to push forward against his hand, desperate for more friction, but he pulled you back down on his cock, hitting that sweet spot that made your head spin. You spoke his name, alerting him of how close you were. You could feel it already, the steady buildup towards that chaotic crash.

Crowley tightened his grip on you, pushing into you harder, deeper, hitting that spot just right. He felt your body quiver violently, tightening around him so much that he could hardly keep thrusting. The pressure had him over the edge within a few moments, his jaw clenched as he fought off a pleased groan. He gently rocked into you before removing himself, heavy breathing being the only sound heard in the room.

You never remembered feeling so complete before. This was how you wanted to exist, him right beside you, holding you so tight at the fear you would slip from his grasp. You smiled warmly, relaxing in his hold, feeling his hands move to encircle your waist. “That totally made up for the time we weren’t able to spend together,” you whispered, feeling him chuckle against your skin, his lips curving up in a smile.

“Indeed. Now, go to sleep,” he murmured, pulling a blanket over the two of you before burying his face against the back of your neck.

“Are you going to stay with me?” You asked after a moment, your tone shy. You weren’t sure if he was the type to do that.

“Always, darling.”

And like that, your worries ceased, allowing you to slip into a comfortable sleep, the King of Hell holding you in his arms.


	11. Date Night

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

A sigh drifted from you as Dean rejected your idea for the third time. You honestly just didn’t see a problem. “We have a load of problems on our hands, guys. We don’t have the time or the numbers to argue. While you guys hunt down Gadreel, let me track down Crowley and try to get the First Blade back,” you tried to reason with them again. Arguing with the Winchesters was a very tiresome activity, one you didn’t enjoy in the slightest. You knew they could handle Gadreel, and you wanted to help tackle at least one problem.

“You think he’s just going to hand the Blade over to you?” Dean scoffed, rubbing at his forearm as he sat back in his chair, feet propped up on the research table.

“No, he would’ve hidden it somewhere. Maybe I can figure out where that is without even having to come into contact with him,” you replied, crossing your arms firmly over your chest. Maybe you were kind of hiding your intentions, but you were going to try to find the Blade while you were with Crowley.

“Just let her try, Dean. I mean, we’re swamped here,” Sam sighed, eventually breaking. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was tired and overwhelmed. Arguing just made his headache worse.

Dean huffed, showing his dislike of the situation. He didn’t want to send you out into the world alone, especially since you were jabbing at Crowley’s territory. “I expect a call from you every night you’re gone. If I don’t get a call, I’m tracking you down and bringing you back,” he told you sternly.

You smiled and bounded out of your chair to embrace him briefly before heading to your room to pack a few things. Things used to summon a demon. You shoved the ingredients into your backpack, your clothing cushioning the more fragile parts. You could already feel the excitement buzzing at the tips of your fingers, a bright smile stuck on your face. After slinging your backpack on and grabbing your weapons case, you headed out to the garage, picking one of the cars that looked like they wouldn’t fall apart on you. You were alright when it came to car maintenance, but you would rather skip those problems at the moment.

Driving and preparing a ritual probably wasn’t the safest thing in the world, but it saved some time. You held the wooden bowl in your lap, throwing ingredients in as you tore away from the Bunker before Dean could change his mind. Because he probably would. Once you reached a quiet area, you pulled off to the side of the road and began setting up, chalk scratching across the surface of the road to complete a sigil. Candles were lit and placed, the bowl was positioned, and you were ready to go. “...Et ad congregandum … eos coram me,” you spoke the incantation aloud before throwing a matchstick in the bowl, setting it aflame. You blinked a few times to adjust your eyes, and there he was in front of you, a smile on his face.

“Hello, darling,” Crowley greeted you, his hands sitting comfortably in the pockets of his slacks. He tilted his head at you, studying you and the car beside you. “Taking a vacation?”

You smiled and shook your head, approaching him slowly, hands twined behind your back. “Business,” you replied, biting your bottom lip briefly.

Once you reached him, Crowley gazed down at you, crooking an eyebrow in interest. “Just business?” Crowley questioned, his eyes flickering to your lips and then back to your eyes.

You shrugged, eyes floating about. “Depends on you.”

“How about instead of business, we have a little fun tonight?” Crowley suggested, his fingers brushing along your arm until he reached your hand, pulling it into his.

“We’re going on a date?” You asked, a faint blush blooming across your cheeks, excitement seizing you. You had only been able to fantasize about a date with him, and now it was actually going to happen.

“Figured I’d show my romantic side a little,” Crowley responded with a little shrug, lips curving up in a smile. He had been planning tonight for awhile, but with all the craziness, he nearly thought it was never going to happen.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you told him, a frown pricking at your lips. A hunter’s salary was non-existent, and when did you have time to go out anywhere besides a bar? What even was a dress?

Crowley waved his free hand dismissively, shooing away your worries. “I have all of that covered, sweetheart,” he assured you, his thumb brushing across your knuckles before he nodded towards your car.

You turned to see a black box with a red bow on top sitting on the hood of your car. You instantly smiled and bounded over, carefully plucking the bow until it unraveled. You opened the box to reveal a black strapless dress with black round toe high heels tucked beneath. You lifted the dress part way out of the box, jaw dropping open. “It's beautiful,” you breathed, fingertips pressing into the fine material.

“Beautiful dress for a beautiful girl,” Crowley commented as he came up beside you, eyes venturing along his pick.

You leaned over to press a thankful kiss to his cheek. “When should I get ready?”

“Now,” Crowley replied, snapping his fingers and making the world shift beneath you until the two of you were in a hotel room. A nice one at that. “I've been in hiding from Abaddon, but one night in a nice hotel shouldn't hurt.”

“We have to talk about her later. And the First Blade,” you told him, folding the dress back into the box and setting it carefully on the king size bed. You turned to him, your smile changing into a frown. “I’m worried for you,” you murmured, eyes dropping to the ground. The thought of losing him made every particle of you ache, every thought a worrying one.

Crowley immediately swept you into a tight embrace, hands stroking along your back to try to calm you. “I’m the bloody King of Hell, darling. Have some faith,” he laughed softly, trying to lighten the dark mood that had settled.

“I know, but Abaddon is dangerous. She’s dying to cut you down,” you fretted into his shoulder, anxiously fisting his suit jacket.

“Well, the feeling is mutual. Don’t fret, love. I want you to be happy today,” Crowley cooed, cupping your face gently in his hands, placing your eyes on his.

You felt a bright smile return slowly to your lips, allowing his words and touch to comfort you. The two of you deserved to be happy together for one night at least. “I am happy,” you told him, reaching up to slide your hands over his.

Crowley pressed a brief peck to your lips before smiling back, relieved that you had put your worrying aside. “I’ll be back in an hour and a half. Is that enough time?”

You nodded, beaming with excitement. You shared one last numbing kiss before he headed for the door, shooting you a wink before he left. You sighed deeply, heart fluttering with happiness. This was going to be a special night. You didn’t remember the last time a man took you out or treated you as well as Crowley. With a bounce in your step, you headed for the shower, not a worry in mind.

~*~

Trying to achieve perfection in under two hours proved to be terribly hard. You heard Crowley knock on the door while you were finishing up your make-up, a panicked expression appearing in the mirror. “Uh … just a second!” You called, quickly dragging the edge of the dark red lipstick across your lips, being extra precise with your movements. You pressed your lips together before glancing over your reflection, inspecting nearly every inch of yourself before nodding and rushing to the bed to slip on your heels. When was the last time you wore heels? You concluded that it was awhile or never because you nearly twisted your ankle taking the first step. “Wow!”

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Crowley’s worried call came from the other side of the door.

“Yep! Coming!” You shouted back, dragging in a deep breath before trying again, making your way slowly towards the door to give yourself time to adjust. You reached forward and pulled open the door, grateful to have something to steady yourself on. You lifted your eyes and felt your jaw nearly drop, mirroring Crowley’s expression. “Damn,” you managed to murmur, a smile appearing on your face as you noted the red tie he wore. You snapped out of your daze to step to the side to allow him in, your hand pushing at the door until it swung closed.

“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning,” Crowley told you, awe in his eyes at the sight of you. He knew you would look amazing, but you looked perfect to him at that moment. “I have something else for you,” he told you, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small box.

“You’re spoiling me,” you giggled, not used to this much attention.

“Because you deserve to be spoiled,” Crowley replied, approaching you slowly, fingers perched on the top of the box. Once he stopped in front of you, he smiled and opened the box, revealing a gold rose pendant, a diamond centered among the petals.

“Holy shit,” you laughed a little, blown away at the sight of it. You reached out to gently touch the small charm, your head shaking in disbelief that it was yours. “Thank you,” you breathed, lifting your eyes to his.

“Let me put it on,” Crowley murmured softly, coaxing you to turn the other way while he removed the necklace from the box. He reached around you, draping the pendant where it laid just under your collarbones. He leaned forward near your ear, lips parting to speak softly. “This is a reminder of how much you mean to me. Nothing, not gold, not diamonds, could ever come close to how valuable you are to me,” he whispered, the words so honest, so foreign. He had never told anyone such words, never left himself be so exposed emotionally. He fastened the pendant around your neck, letting the gold chain fall from his fingers so that you could turn and face him.

You had to blink back tears at his words, having not heard anything like that before. “You’re going to make me ruin my make-up,” you joked, sniffling a little and lowering your head to hide your face.

“You’ll still look just as beautiful,” Crowley assured you before cupping your face, bringing your lips to his, his thumbs stroking your cheeks in a comforting manner. He felt hot tears course down your face, his thumbs brushing them away. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered against your lips, stifling your soft cries.

You grasped his wrists, giving yourself some sort of stability as you calmed down, listening and feeling the words he was murmuring against your lips. “I’m okay,” you eventually assured him, breathing in deeply.

Crowley pulled back to look at you, a smile appearing on his face. “Still beautiful,” he murmured, wiping away stray tears. “Ready to go?”

“I was born ready,” you chuckled, giving his wrists a squeeze before heading to the nearest mirror to make sure your mascara hadn’t streaked. Luckily, there really wasn’t any damage. You joined him at the door, reaching forward to take his extended hand.

Crowley lifted his free hand, thumb and ring finger coming together to snap the two of you out of there and in an alleyway. He glanced around to check that nobody had seen before leading you out onto the sidewalk, merging with the light flow of people walking through the city. The sun was on its way down, casting bright hues of color across the sky. “Hungry?”

“Starved,” you replied, letting him lead you into one of the nicer restaurants within the city. You glanced around at the modern setting while Crowley talked to the hostess, eyes widening at how nice it was. You were used to diners and bars.

“Come on, love,” Crowley murmured to you, coaxing you from your fascination so that he could lead you up a flight of stairs and through a pair of open doors that led out to a balcony. The city and the sunset was your view, the temperature settling at a comfortable coolness.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, moving to the rail to look down at the street, watching groups of people migrate along the sidewalk.

Crowley moved to stand beside you, one arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you close as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Maybe one day it can be like this all the time.”

You gazed out at the city, feeling some sort of power, some sort of control as you looked down upon it, Crowley at your side. “I’d like that,” you murmured, eyes blazing from the dying sun in your sight.

Crowley turned his head to look at you, taking in your strong posture, your lifted chin. You looked like a leader. “You’re so much stronger than what people take you for.”

A small smirk tugged at your lips as you turned to face him. “I know.”

Crowley smiled and moved to the nearest table, pulling out a seat for you and letting you get situated before moving to his own chair. He ordered the two of you drinks before focusing back on you, noticing how thoughtful you looked. “Something on your mind, love?”

“The future,” you answered within a beat, tearing your eyes from the city view.

“How’s it look?”

“As long as you’re by my side, it looks great,” you told him, stretching a hand out across the table towards him.

Crowley took your hand gently, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “There’s something else you want besides me, darling. I know ambition when I see it,” he chuckled, prying you to spill with his eyes.

“When I’m with you, I’m reminded of the lack of power I’ve always had. I’m reminded of the power I have always craved to have. I admire you, Crowley,” you began speaking your thoughts, trying to make sense of them for yourself. “But I don’t just like you for your power. That’s not it. I just want you to know that you give me hope that I can prove everyone wrong.”

“What are you trying to prove?”

“That I’m strong. That I don’t need my family,” you replied, eyes narrowing in distaste. You were the runt of the pack, and your family always let others know that. You were believed to never amount to any of your family members. You would prove them wrong, all of them.

Before Crowley could reply, the waitress brought your drinks, breaking into the tense moment.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Surprise me,” you told Crowley, shooting him a playful wink.

Crowley smirked and picked something off the menu that you couldn’t even pronounce. “You’re very strong and you don’t need your family, but I understand where you’re coming from. I will do everything in my power to help you,” Crowley told you once the waitress left with your menus.

“After Abaddon is gone, though. One problem at a time,” you murmured, raising your glass to him.

“What should we toast to?” Crowley asked as he grasped his own glass.

“To  _ our _ future, may it be luxurious, powerful, and full of sex and alcohol,” you giggled, eyes closing briefly in amusement.

“I can definitely toast to that,” Crowley chuckled, bringing the edge of his glass to yours. He brought the rim to his lips, taking in a dash of his drink as he peered at you over his glass. “Well, we have one of the two,” Crowley commented, tapping his glass to make the alcoholic drink swish.

“Well, we have all night,” you murmured, seduction dripping from your words. You lifted your eyebrows suggestively, a smile adorning your lips.

Crowley took another long sip, trying to put off his arousal till later. “I plan on using the time wisely,” Crowley assured you, teeth caressing his bottom lip briefly as he pictured what came later.

Once your food arrived, dinner seemed to fly by, full of small talk and commenting on how great the food was. “Oh my God, it’s so good,” you groaned, taking the last bite of the chocolate cake that used to be in front of you. You dragged the fork across your lips before abandoning it on the empty plate, face expressing bliss.

Crowley laughed a little, eyes falling onto your lips. “Hold on, you’ve got chocolate,” he told you, pointing towards the corner of your mouth. Before you could make a move to wipe it away with your thumb, he moved his chair closer until he was nearly beside you. “I’ve got it,” he told you, a wicked smile on his face as one of his hands caressed your cheek. He pulled your lips to his, sucking at your bottom lip gently before dipping his tongue into the warmth of your mouth, tasting alcohol and chocolate.

You moaned softly against his lips, feeling heat flame through you despite the cool temperature surrounding you. You pressed a hand against the back of his neck, keeping your lips connected until you had to part to breathe. “This is why we can’t go out in public,” you laughed breathlessly.

“What’s the matter, darling? Feeling restless?” Crowley teased you, resting a hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles into your bare skin.

You slapped at his hand, throwing him a glare as the waitress approached with the check. You feigned an innocent smile as she thanked you for coming, feeling Crowley’s fingertips dip beneath the end of your dress.

Crowley placed a few bills on the table before turning to you with a cocky smile. “Ready to head back to the hotel?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you replied, standing before his hand could move up any farther along your thigh. You shot him a wink as you led him out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk, night having already fallen and most of the people already gone. You slipped your hand in his and sighed happily, glad you didn’t have to hide or worry for the time being.

Crowley led you into a secluded area before snapping you back to the hotel room, chilled champagne awaiting you in a bucket full of ice. “When’s the last time you’ve relaxed?” He asked as he prepared two glasses of sparkling liquid.

“Pftt. What is relaxing?” You muttered as you took off your heels and tossed your phone onto the nightstand.

“Well, you’re going to relax tonight,” Crowley replied, bringing your glass to you.

“You’re the one being hunted down. You need to relax,” you pointed out, taking your glass and bringing the edge to your lips.

Crowley smirked and gave his head a dismissive shake. “Just let me take care of you,” he murmured, eyes prodding you to agree.

“As long as I get to take care of you,” you replied stubbornly, crossing your arms.

“Another time. Tonight is about you, sweetheart,” Crowley responded before taking a deep sip of his drink. He set both of your drinks down on the desk before taking your hands, pulling you close to him. “No arguing,” he warned you.

“Fine,” you muttered, breaking under the pressure of your arousal. You leaned up on your toes to press your lips to his, humming in delight as he responded instantly, lips gliding and tugging at a self-established rhythm. You felt his hands glide along your sides, up your back, down your arms. You melted at his touch, the kiss becoming more needy on your end. “I love this dress, but I need you to take it off now,” you breathed, hands tugging at his tie to unravel it.

“Be patient, darling,” Crowley scolded you, his fingers curling firmly around your wrists, halting your rushed actions and provoking a whine from you. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I plan to have you begging all night, not for a few minutes.”

You would've pouted if his lips didn't attack yours a moment later. You expressed your impatience with slight nips and sucks, drawing his bottom lip between your teeth to extract growls and groans that sent heat spiraling to your core. “You can’t tease me all night. Seeing me writhe, hearing me moan your name, you won’t be able to resist fucking me into the mattress,” you whispered against his lips, lust-blown eyes opening slowly to gaze up into his.

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t move an inch or make a sound,” he whispered back, lips curling into a devilish smile as he heard the sharp hitch in your breath. “Okay?” Crowley murmured, pulling away to look at you face-to-face, eyes studying your expressions and reactions.

“Okay,” you replied, giving him an affirmative nod to express your consent to whatever he had in store later.

Crowley released your wrists, hands gliding over and up your back to reach the zipper of your dress, eyes steady on yours. With the patience you didn’t possess, he slowly etched your zipper down, bare skin coming into view from beneath the dark material.

“Can’t you snap it off?” You questioned, fidgeting on the spot as you felt his touch just past the fabric.

“You’re costing yourself more minutes of teasing,” he replied, a smirk playing out on his lips as he took his time to help you out of the dress. He pulled you forward by a firm hand on the small of your back, making your bodies clash.

You gripped his shoulders, keeping your lips sealed to ensure you didn’t provoke him to punish you anymore than he already had. Your eyes dropped to his lips and then back to his eyes, want, more like need, ringing loud and clear in your expression.

Crowley smiled a little, watching your eyes dart about. He lifted his chin a bit, an acknowledgement in the action. He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your lips, the touch feather-light and brief.

A whimper trembled on your lips, hands fisting his suit jacket. “The sun is going to rise before you do any-” you were cut off by a bruising peck, lips immediately parting as tongues stroked and fought. You jumped on that moment of sensual chaos to yank his suit jacket off of his shoulders, hearing the expensive material crumble on the floor. You felt his burning touch everywhere, fingertips pressing deep marks, hands grasping at your body with pure desire.

Crowley’s lips trailed along your jawbone to your neck, teeth and tongue leaving marks in his wake. He felt faint moans rumble in your throat, his eyes shutting briefly to try to offput his intense arousal. He wanted to just touch and tease, but your reactions corrupted his control. He growled against your neck, hands grabbing at the back of your strapless bra and pulling it apart with one strong tug, the hooks snapping instantly.

You could hardly breathe a gasp before his lips secured themselves around one of your nipples, the clashing feel of the soft strokes of his tongue and the rough tug of his teeth making your mind spiral. You attempted to undo the buttons of his black button-down, but as soon as your fingertips brushed his shirt, you felt his hands latch onto your hips and pull you down onto the bed. You landed on your back with a gasp, your eyes flickering up to see him gazing at you, the color of his eyes reaching a darker tint.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Crowley’s lips, his hand retrieving his glass from the nearby table and bringing the edge to his lips for a deep sip as he admired you. “You didn't sell your soul to look this good, right?” He teased, shooting you a wink as he set his glass down.

“Ha ha. I might as well because it feels like I've been waiting for ten fucking years,” you retorted, your boldness expressing itself. You noticed Crowley’s expression change, a more visceral look being presented. All you knew was you were in trouble for mouthing off.

Crowley laughed a little, the action dark, sending a chill down your spine. “My, my, someone’s got a mouth on her tonight,” he murmured, slowly approaching the edge of the bed. He watched you shrink on the spot, his eyes narrowing a fraction. Without a word, he reached down and yanked your panties off of your hips and down your legs. “I think I'm going to do something about that mouth of yours. Now, I love hearing you moan and gasp, but I don't appreciate the sass. So, we’re going to play a little game, okay? I'm going to tease you as much as I want, and if I hear a peep from you, I'll just prolong the fucking you're aching for. If I see you're being a good girl and following my orders, I'll give you what you want. Sounds good?” Crowley told you, twirling your black panties around his index finger.

You couldn't help the tremor of heat and arousal that passed through you, a deep blush appearing on your skin. You nodded, keeping your mouth shut.

“It's okay, love. You can speak your answer. I need to hear it,” Crowley spoke softly, eyes prompting you to answer honestly.

“Okay. Let's play,” you replied, unable to help the small smile crossing your lips.

Crowley smiled and grabbed his empty glass before moving over to the ice bucket that held the bottle of champagne. He started to pull the bottle out to refill his glass, but the clattering of the ice cubes in the bucket made him stop for a moment, mind working. A devilish grin crossed his face, his head turning to smirk at you from over his shoulder.

Uh oh. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping at the sheets to steady yourself. He was up to something. You watched him carry the ice bucket and place it on the nightstand near the bed, all the moving parts beginning to click in your mind.

“Come here, darling,” Crowley purred, patting the head of the bed with an open palm, eyes beckoning you.

You obeyed and crawled forward, letting him position you to where you laid farther up on the bed, your head nestled against a pillow. With a glint of excitement within your eyes, you gazed up at him, hands resting obediently on your stomach.

Crowley crooked his head, obviously pondering on what exactly he wanted to do with you. “Hands above your head.”

You did what he said, extending your arms above your head towards the headboard made out of vertical, steel rails with one curved horizontal rail just above the middle. You watched him yank his loose tie from around his neck, making a shudder tremble through you. The soft fabric of his tie curled around your wrists delicately but firmly, securing your wrists together.

Crowley leaned over to tie the ends of his tie around the horizontal rail, making the knot tight. His eyes shifted down to yours, the look questioning.

You nodded, giving your wrists experimental twists and pulls to let him know the position wasn’t harming you. It was thrilling to see his dominant side make an appearance. After many torturous days of submitting to human feelings, he had finally broken free and returned to his prime mentally. “I’m okay,” you told him, giving him a small smile.

Crowley dipped his head down to press a soft kiss to your lips before standing and moving to the end of the bed, fingertips dragging across the surface of the white sheets. He crawled between your legs, hands dipping into the mattress on either side of your head.

You went to reach out for him, but his red tie kept your hands in place. A small whimper sounded in your throat, chest rising and falling deeply as your adrenaline spiked. Heat started to burn within you, beginning in the pit of your stomach and threatening to swallow you whole.

Crowley felt your body shift against his, your skin beginning to flush red with arousal. He captured your lips in a heated kiss, providing some relief and fueling the fire at the same time. One of his hands drifted from the sheets to dip into the ice bucket, plucking a cube of ice up from the chilled waters. He drew his lips back just slightly to give himself enough room to run the edge of the piece of ice across your bottom lip, making your breath hitch. He pulled his hand away to suck at your bottom lip, tongue dashing out to lap at the traces of cold water.

As he pulled away, you leaned upwards, trying to keep his lips on yours. When he slipped out of reach, you visibly pouted, winding an ankle around his waist to keep him close.

Crowley smirked a little at your impatience, your desire to go on and on and on. He positioned the ice cube between his lips before dipping his head, pressing the freezing edge against the side of your neck.

Your lips parted silently at the chill, your head automatically tilting backwards as he moved down across your throat and between your breasts. You bit into your bottom lip, stifling any sensual sounds that threatened to escape.

Crowley grasped your side with one hand, feeling your back arch as he circled one of your nipples a few times, stimulating your senses. Without pausing, he moved to your other nipple, leaving a cold trail along your skin.

Goosebumps flared up across your skin, your eyes closing as your breathing grew ragged. His name and a plethora of curses played on a constant loop in your head, your lips mouthing them silently. You felt the ice cube trail down your abdomen, making your toes curl at the sensations happening.

Crowley felt the ice cube melt against your heated skin, his eyes lifting to see the path of cool water he had left along your body. “You’re doing so good, love,” he whispered against your skin.

You curled your fingers around the tie’s fabric, steadying yourself or trying to. You nearly slipped up and gasped as you felt him press open-mouthed kisses along the ice’s trail, his tongue lashing out to lick up the remains.

Crowley could feel the tenseness in your body, the proximity of your giving in. He dragged his tongue across your nipple before swirling around the hardened bud, feeling you arch up against his mouth. He closed his lips around you, sucking lightly and drawing soft pants from you. He smiled faintly before moving to your other breast, his mouth working wonders.

Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling, your composure threatening to snap. Every time he touched you it felt like the first time, the first exposure to his charm and skill. Just when a shaky moan was about to break from your lips, you felt his mouth drift away. With a sigh of relief, you closed your eyes and relaxed for a moment, catching your breath while you felt him shift around. You could do this. You could play his game and win.

Crowley watched you compose yourself with a smirk, knowing how hard you were trying. He placed a fresh ice cube between his lips and bent down, pressing its coldness against your clit and provoking a shocked moan from you. “Mm, mm, mm,” he scolded you, keeping the piece between his lips as he smacked the outside of your thigh.

You jumped at the brief sting, the pain ebbing away into more heat. Your thighs threatened to close him in, but he forced them apart with his hands, giving him room to run the ice cube along your glistening folds. You whimpered quietly, resting one of your heels on his shoulder as he continued to tease you. This was proving to be difficult. You squirmed a bit beneath his movements, trying to gain friction but having no luck.

Crowley felt your hips lift and drag, earning an amused hum from him. He moved the quickly melting ice cube to the inside of your thighs, drawing gleaming lines and getting close enough to get you excited but not close enough to quench the fire raging within you. Once the ice melted, he brought his tongue through your folds, the contrast of the coolness of his mouth and the heat of your skin eliciting a sigh from you. His bottom lip glanced over your folds before he lifted his head to look up at you. “No sassy comments, darling?”

You automatically thought of one and had it on the tip of your tongue, but you fought it back and merely smiled sweetly.

Crowley rubbed your thighs gently before lowering his head to swirl his tongue around your clit, his eyes on you as you threw your head back, the tie’s fabric straining against your desperate tugs and pulls. The warm pants of his breath against your core sent heat straight through you, making quiet moans rumble in your chest. Crowley lazily dragged his tongue down between your folds to press against your entrance, his nose bumping against your clit and his facial hair grating against your skin.

You sunk back into the mattress, enjoying the feeling of the slow tongue-fucking you were receiving. You rocked your hips against his mouth, feeling his tongue push in deeper, harder. You heard rustling, eyes rolling down to watch him shove a hand into his pants to grasp his aching cock. “I told you to let me take care of you,” you told him before remembering his orders. You received another slap to your thigh for that, making you gasp a pleased moan.

Crowley sucked at your folds, alternating between lapping at your clit and dipping into your entrance. He felt your thighs tremble, more and more arousal collecting on his tongue. “You're so wet,” he purred against your core, sending pleasurable vibrations through you. He brought his free hand between your legs, letting his middle finger drift between your folds before pressing into you. A groan sounded from him as he pushed deeper, feeling your walls nearly pull him inside. He added his ring finger, giving them both a testing curl and making your hips jerk. He smiled and worked his fingertips against that one sweet spot, his tongue attending to your clit with fervent strokes.

“Mmf … ahh,” you tried to muffle yourself, heat clawing at your face as you approached that desired peak. Your body tensed, threatening to succumb to the immense pleasure, and just as you were about to fall apart beneath the talented stroke of his tongue and the deep thrusts of his fingers, he pulled away. A faint whine sounded from you, eyes pleading him to continue. You were  _ so _ close. The rapture buzzed along your skin, heat burning within you from your head to your toes.

Crowley sat back on his knees, his hand still slowly working his cock beneath his slacks. He had a thoughtful look on his face, mind pondering on just what to do with you. “Hardly a comment out of you. I’m impressed, love. I bet it’s hard controlling that snarky mouth of yours,” he commented, something close to a daring glint gleaming within his eyes. He was testing you, trying at your mental boundaries. How worked up could he get you?

_ Cool it, Y/N _ . You gave yourself a mental prep talk, your lips remaining sealed in a small smile. You were a winner. He could talk all he wanted because you weren’t going to budge.

Crowley crooked his head curiously, a smirk appearing on his lips. Unfortunately, he was just as competitive as you. He rose from the bed and began pouring himself another glass of champagne, his movements achingly slow. He wrapped his lips around the edge of his glass and took a small sip, his tongue curving around his bottom lip once he pulled the rim away.

You watched the sensual action, your own tongue dashing out to briefly caress the corner of your mouth. That tongue of his had been in the right place a few minutes ago, but now he was just plainly torturing you. You would just get yourself off, but you were a bit tied up. You gave the fabric another tug, feeling the knot give some.

Crowley was too busy slowly sipping away at his drink to notice your escape efforts. He held up the bottle of champagne to act interested in the label, a wicked smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

It had been quite some time since your last hot and heavy session with Crowley, and you weren’t planning on waiting much longer. So, you took matters into your own hands, your eyes directing themselves upwards as you worked your wrists to loosen the knot holding you captive. You were sure some sort of punishment was in store for your actions, but you were always one to pursue what you wanted, despite the consequences. You gave your hands a yank, the knot giving away and the material fluttering down to the bed. Before Crowley could even put down his drink, you had him by the front of his shirt in two tight handfuls, bringing him forward so that your lips could clash.

Crowley grunted in shock, his glass slipping from his hand and clattering against the floor. He paid the mess no mind, too caught up in how your lips worked against his. He pushed one of his hands into your hair, his fingers lightly curling around the soft strands to tilt your head to a desired angle. His tongue pushed against yours sensually, dipping in and out between each tug of your lips. Your rebellious actions weren’t forgotten, though. His free hand came down against your ass, his hands immediately rubbing the struck area to soothe away the sting.

A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden jolt, your hands tightening on his shirt. “Fuck,” you whimpered, feeling the pain mingle with the heat and pleasure building once again in your core. Your fingers quickly pulled at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to rid him of his clothes. Once you reached the last button, you shoved the material off of his shoulders, your lips never leaving his. You couldn’t escape the natural pull you felt towards him. Every touch, despite being forbidden, felt right.

Crowley snapped off the rest of his clothing, his hands coming around to caress your ass, pulling your body flush against his in your knelt state.

You moaned softly against his lips as you felt his cock press against your stomach, smudges of pre-cum glistening on your skin. Your hands stroked their way up his chest to his face, your palms light against the sides of his face. “Please,” you breathed, fingertips sifting through the softness of his beard.

“Please, what?” Crowley purred back, gripping and squeezing your ass appreciatively.

“Please fuck me,” you replied, drawing away from his lips to gaze up at him, kiss-swollen lips parted slightly.

Crowley drifted his thumb across your bottom lip, giving his own an aroused bite at the sight of you. “I can’t deny you anything, love,” he murmured, sending a wink your way before picking you up and carrying you to the center of the bed. He held you up against his body, feeling your legs and arms wrap around him to keep you elevated. He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips as he pushed into you, both of you inhaling deeply at the same time. “You always feel so good around my cock,” he growled into your neck, his hands on your ass helping you move along his length.

You locked your arms around his neck, moaning in response as he thrusted deep inside of you. Your bodies pushed and pulled against each other at a quickly adapted rhythm, eyes on the other as you bounced along his expansive inches. “Yes … yes,” you panted, one of your hands brushing up into his hair.

“Yeah, feels good, kitten?”

Before you could reply, you heard your phone go off behind Crowley. You peered over your shoulder to see the caller I.D.  _ Dean Winchester _ . “Oh, fuck, I forgot to call him! I have to answer or he’ll track me down,” you scowled, beginning to unravel yourself from Crowley.

Crowley held on tight, keeping you right where you were while he leaned over and snatched up your phone. “Go ahead,” he prompted you to answer, a devilish smile crossing his face.

“We managed to trick him last time, but do you think we should keep being so reckless?” You laughed a little, glancing back and forth between him and your phone.

“We aren’t us without being at least a little reckless,” Crowley pointed out. Your relationship, or whatever you had, was completely reckless for the fact that it even existed. A hunter and the King of Hell. It wasn’t natural, and even though it wasn’t, it was just you and him in your mind. That’s all there was.

You smiled daringly and answered, using your free hand to anchor yourself to Crowley as he slowly worked you up and down on his cock. “Hey, Dean,” you spoke in one breath, attempting to control your erratic breathing.

“You were supposed to call me, Y/N. I was five seconds away from tracking you down.”

You felt Crowley strike that one sweet spot, your teeth clamping down on your lip to stifle a whimper. “Y-Yeah … yeah, I’m sorry. I got distracted,” you replied, shooting Crowley a smirk.

“Any luck with Crowley?”

You were having tons of luck with Crowley. You sneaked in a brief kiss before bringing the phone back to your ear. “Not yet. I sort of have a lead, but I’ll probably go to sleep and pick it up in the morning,” you replied, going through the words slowly and trying to not let your tone jump from your movements. You felt a dash of wet heat streak across one of your nipples, making you gasp aloud before you could stop yourself.

“What was that? Are you okay?”

You shot Crowley a warning glare before composing yourself enough to reply. “Yep! Sorry, gave myself … a papercut,” you made up the excuse on the spot, giving Crowley a hopeless shrug as he shook his head in amusement.

“Well, call me tomorrow night, okay?  _ You _ call  _ me _ .”

“Got it. Got it,” you rushed out, feeling Crowley’s hips snap against yours, driving himself deeper, harder. Heat coursed through you, your heart rate starting to etch upwards rapidly.

“Alright. Nigh-”

“Night, Dean!” You cut in and ended the call, instantly tossing your phone onto the bed and focusing back on what Crowley was doing to you. “Make me cum,” your soft words fluttered against Crowley’s lips, a soft pink tint appearing on your cheeks from the heat.

“How bad do you want to cum, darling? Tell me,” Crowley purred, one of his hands splaying across your back to pull you flush against him.

“Fuck … really bad,” you whimpered, your hips rolling against his to amp up the friction.

Crowley grabbed onto your sides and slammed you down against the mattress, provoking a gasp from you. He smiled down at you, hands moving down to grasp your hips and pull you closer so that he could press back into you. He leaned down to bury his face against your neck, placing a series of gentle love bites on your skin as he continuously pushed into you, his pace growing faster.

You tilted your head back, moans rattling in your throat as he slammed into you with no restraint, making your body vibrate with rapture. “Crowley … ohh, fuck,” you gasped out, feeling his hips ground and press against yours. It felt like a weight had settled in the pit of your stomach, the pressure building and building along with the heat. Your back slid against the sheets as he heavily thrusted into you, his hands the only thing keeping you anchored to the spot.

Crowley could feel the tenseness in your legs, your abdomen. You were about to snap. “Are you gonna cum for me, love?” He murmured against your skin before lifting his head to meet your eyes, the hazel coloring now a few shades darker.

You gripped his upper arms, attempting to fasten yourself to reality as he drove you into pure paradise. “Yes … yes … you’re gonna make me cum so hard,” you whimpered, lips looking nearly pouted from being so kiss-swollen and red. You arched your back beneath him, lips falling open as deep waves of heat rolled through you, countless moans echoing off the walls as you hit that peak. You felt his hips stutter as he followed suit, his groans muffled against your shoulder. You shuddered as you came down, the slow rolls of his hips against yours eventually dying out until there wasn’t a hint of movement or sound in the room. “Just gets better every time,” you commented with a small laugh, draping your arms around his neck.

Crowley smirked and pressed a soft kiss to your collarbone before pulling you across the bed until he was able to pull the blanket over the two of you. He rested back against the pillows, allowing you to cuddle into his side, one of your arms draping over him. He let his fingers drift across your back, eyes up on the ceiling as silence settled in the room. There was so much to talk about, so many issues to resolve. He didn’t want to ruin such a perfect moment with such troublesome thoughts.

You tilted your head up to see him in deep thought, worry flashing in his eyes. You frowned and leaned up to capture his lips in a gentle kiss, bodies still heated from the previous session. “Stop thinking,” you whispered, drifting your hand across his chest comfortingly.

Crowley smiled a little and nodded. “Tonight was perfect,” he murmured, gazing at you with pure affection, a look you weren’t used to.

“Yeah, it was. Thank you for everything,” you told him sincerely, moving your hand up to his cheek to softly caress his face. You felt him lean into your touch, making you smile brightly at the fact that he welcomed your affection instead of shied away from it.

“Anything for you.” Crowley meant those words with every ounce of his being. Whatever hell he went through, as long as you were fine, he was fine. It was strange caring for someone other than himself and having that person care for him too. It was the best feeling in the world, though, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything, not gold, not diamonds.


End file.
